Mass Effect: Remnants
by dIvInE SeReNiTy
Summary: As a high school student on Earth in 2185, I want nothing more but to fit in. But what starts out as my first intergalactic road trip quickly descends into a run for my life, a race across the galaxy, and the crossing of paths with a certain Commander to stop galactic annihilation as we know it.
1. Prologue

**Author's note: Well, after months of deliberating and plotting out the entire storyline, I present to you the first fanfiction that I've written after such a long time absence from the site! The Mass Effect universe is just so well-established and seeing as how it's chock full of so much lore, I've decided to do contribute my part in trying to expand on an already impressive universe.**

**I guess the main thing that I'm trying to achieve with my story is to further flesh out the universe because the game can only allow us to experience several aspects of what the galaxy has to offer in terms of localities, environments and the cultures of the intergalactic community. In short, my story will lean more towards vividly realizing elements of the galaxy that players of the Mass Effect games only got a small taste of when they assumed the role of Commander Shepard. Things such as how living as a elite member of Citadel society would be like, the life of an adopted human son with a turian foster parent, and the kinds of shenanigans that one would get up to during an intergalactic road trip, and stuff like that.**

**Don't worry though, there's still plenty of riveting action sequences that punctuate the story and rest assure, I didn't skimp on the plot and characters, especially when it runs parallel with the events of the first game. With that said, I hope you'll enjoy reading Mass Effect: Remnants! Do leave a review if you liked it! I'd more than appreciate the constructive criticism on my writing!**

**Oh before I forget, the disclaimer! Ehem, the Mass Effect universe is copyright of Bioware but all characters except those stated otherwise are the brainchild of yours truly.**

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**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

**Prologue**

I awake to feel myself floating through….outer space? Countless stars; all of them bright, glittery jewels that adorn the infinite night sky twinkle all around me. As I drift through this endless expanse, I realize that the absurdity of my circumstance means that I'm in a dream. And yet, everything here just feels so…real.

A small ripple of blue shimmering over both my palms catches my attention. I bring my arms up into my gaze where the ripples of blue, hazy light intensify. Then, the ripple shoots down both my arms and soon, I find my entire being basked in this shimmer of blue light.

Despite being in the subzero temperatures of outer space, I feel warm. Even with the endless night surrounding me at every corner, I'm somehow at peace with myself. I just feel that everything is going to be okay.

However, a new sensation makes itself known in the recesses of my body and mind. It starts out as a small tingle before growing into an intangible substance that just fills me up from head to toe. It feels like I'm grasping at the tips of what feels like immense power, just waiting to burst from within. My hands which are still bathed in the blue-lit fog pulse with some sort of energy.

Before getting the chance to note this strange occurrence, I feel myself picking up speed. The buoyant drifting sensation is now gone, and I feel as though I'm being hurtled through space at an increasing speed. The aura that encases me bursts into a brilliant luminescence as I speed through the black veils of space. Constellations of stars pass me by, every one of them similar to one after the other. The endless expanse surrounding me remains unchanged, even as I soar through them at speeds faster than light itself.

Suddenly, I'm looking at this vista from the cockpit of a starship of some kind. But what feels weird is that I'm viewing this through the eyes of some sort of sentient being as a passive observer; a disjointed, out-of-body experience. Furthermore, the sensations of remorse and haplessness that permeates the cockpit feel so familiar, yet not of my own.

Several planets in a system soon come into view; their vibrant colors a resplendent sight against the cold, bleak backdrop of space. The sun lying at the center of the system emanates a soft, warm glow that light up the surroundings, completing the picture's very resplendence. The starship comes to a stop before this majestic sight.

I stare in wonder, awestruck at both the beauty and the scale of this wonder of the universe. I reach out and I could sense myself drawing closer and closer to one of the uncharted planets, a spherical mass clothed in bright palettes of blue and green. Just then, I detect a shift in the air of the cockpit. Is that a sense of elation and of hope perhaps? I get the notion which I can only describe as the feeling of knowing that you're not the last of your kind out here. The starship sets a course for this planet.

I pull out a memory shard from the folds of my armor. The sight of such a seemingly trivial object is reassuring and I take solace in that fact. I place my hands on it and interface with the shard. The outside world recedes away and my consciousness intertwines with that of an entire collective. A voice speaks; grand, majestic and transcendent. It sounds as though many a people spoke, yet all their voices coalesced into one soothing paean. Although I'm unable to recognize any of these people or the meaning behind any of these words, I know for sure that these are meant as words of a final farewell.

_Listen closely, my child._

_ We are all brought into this existence, this never-ending cycle of death and rebirth for a reason._

_Every being is gifted with their rightful place and purpose in this plane of existence._

_Some of which are more significant than others._

_Know this, for a legacy is entrusted to each and every one of us. _

_Do not fail where we have. Succeed where we have not._

_While we lie in our ruined past, you must brave the future._

_But take heed; there are forces of which we cannot comprehend that lurk in shadows._

_Forces that reap the seeds of despair and destruction_

_And these reapers shall riddle your long and already arduous path. _

_Dear child, while you carry the burdens and regrets of beings long gone_

_Let it sway you not from your path._

_Persevere in the face of adversity and stand strong with the courage of others._

_For the future is yours to make and yours to keep._

_Such is your purpose._

_Such is your inheritance. _

_Such is your legacy._

_Take courage and go forth,_

_Our most cherished remnant._

The voice dissipates as it speaks the final few words, and open my eyes…only to find the planets lying in ruins. The once vibrant terrains of each planet are scorched with large swathes of fire and destruction. Large columns of smoke can be seen billowing out into orbit. The sun, its brightness lending warmth to the surroundings just moments before; flare menacingly, basking everything an angry shade of orange.

Then, a blinding beam of light explodes in my vision, and I shield my eyes. As my vision gradually returns, I make out the source of the light; the 'eye' of a mechanical, squid-like collosus. I can feel that it's an organic being with sentience, albeit being more of an amalgamation of machine and artificial intelligence. Worse, I know that the destruction they are leaving in their wake is not their first time, nor will it be their last.

As fear slowly overwhelms me, I note that similar beings were emerging all around the planets, their numbers in the thousands as they descend upon the hapless planets and lay waste to everything in their sights. Destructive rays of red light flash intermittently all across the surfaces of the planets, cries of agony echo into the cold dark void of space. Still, the unrelenting machines continue on.

The gargantuan being notices me at last, its gaze firmly fixed on me. It lets out a deafening bellow of rage and my head explodes in searing hot pain. Red clouds my vision and I grind my teeth so hard in an attempt to quell the pain.

Just when the pain gets to such a degree that I wish I would just drop dead and let the pain die away with me as well, the world around me fades into blackness. There are no longer any stars twinkling in this world of black. And on the bright side, neither are there any more of those menacing squid-like creatures.

But the last thing I recall are those cryptic words.

"_Our most cherished remnant."_

Then, I awake back into reality.

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**Author's note: And...there ya go, the prologue that starts it all. I'm sorry if it didn't quite offer an idea of what to expect from this story of mine but I do hope the next chapter would kind of hint at the tone of the story and where I plan to take it.**


	2. Of Uncle Leo and I

**A/N: Seeing as how it's my first story and all, I've decided to upload two chapters upon publishing it - the prologue and Chapter 1. That way, I hope you readers can get a better idea on what to expect from this story of mine. Well, I won't bore you too much with all these comments of mine, so on with the show!**

**As always, the Mass Effect universe is the property of Bioware while my cast of characters, unless noted otherwise, belongs to me. Enjoy!**

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**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 1 – Of Uncle Leo and I

A warm, red-orange hue fills my vision. I blink once and then twice, opening my eyes to the white monochrome ceiling above. Shrugging off the haze of sleep from my mind, I sleepily turn towards the holographic clock on the bedside table. Its orange display reads 6.45, Human Coordinated Universal Time. I groan out loud. That'll be the last time I play Code of Honor before bed again. Of course, I _have_ been telling myself that for the past few months now.

That disturbing dream of mine comes back into clear focus. It's been like what, the third time this past week now? I swear that those dreams get even more vivid and surreal every single time they recur. Now, all that's left to remind me that they even happened at all is a dull throbbing at the back of my head. Just what the heck were they all about? Some end of the world prophecy or something? Just goes to show that I really need to stop watching all those post-apocalyptic vids on the extranet.

I grunt as I struggle to sit up and reorient myself.

_God, I hate mornings_.

It's a constant battle to ignore that bodily urge to just close ny eyes, fall back into bed and give into the temptation of just snoozing until the late morning. But my guilty conscience and Uncle Leo would soon nag at me for missing classes at school again. Not that it really matters.

I force myself out of bed. I put my bare feet on the grey-matte floor and shiver slightly at its unexpected cold. Stretching myself and stifling a yawn in the process, I turn to the window blinds across my bed and tap on its holographic controls. The blinds part to reveal a clear, cloudless indigo sky streaked with the receding night; now only a shade of auburn to mark its presence. A pale yet stunning sunrise in the east ushers in the new day above the quaint and orderly layout of houses and green lawns that span my neighborhood.

_At least the morning's looking all good. _

I turn my attention back to my square-sized room and note its barrenness. The table that houses my computer terminal on the bed's right side has only my datapad that I use for schoolwork, and the reading lamp that Uncle Leo insisted I put there lying idly on its surface. The gaming console sits innocuously to the side of the table.

The white, black-trimmed monochrome walls are untouched and sparsely decorated, save for the occasional posters of Blasto the Jellyfish and the intergalactic simulstim band Expel 10. My cupboard is built into the wall space on the bed's left and I sleepily rummage through what limited content it has, settling for a pair of blue slacks, a white graphic tee and a light brown jacket to go over the shirt. It might get a little chilly today.

Then, I head on out through the automated sliding doors and into the bathroom directly opposite my room. I pass in front of Uncle Leo's bedroom door and wonder if he's inside there, sound asleep. I pause to decide if I want to take a peek inside. I drop the idea. Chances are that he's not back home yet.

In the bathroom, I get into the shower and run some warm water through me in an attempt to wake myself up. Safe to say, I didn't even need bother. Even after that deluge of water to get my senses up and running, I'm still half-asleep and half-dead.

Once I'm done, I emerge and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I let out a deep sigh and absent-mindedly study my features while I brush my teeth. I can't believe I'm finally turning 18 and graduating high school in a few months time. That should be good thing….right? But, I'm just not feeling that sense of elation. In any case, the young man in the mirror with wavy jet-black hair and equally onyx-black eyes looked well beyond his years. And the tired, somewhat despondent glint in his eyes only added to the effect.

At first, I just chalked it up to the constant moving around that pretty much summed up my entire adolescent life with Uncle Leo but now…I'm not so sure anymore. I shrug it off, get dressed and head on down to the kitchen.

"Uncle Leo?" I call out, making my way down the stairwell and turning a right into the kitchen, which is separated from the living room by a general, multi-purpose countertop.

"If you're back home from your shift at the museum, I just want to let you know that I'm about to go to school now." The entire house, basked in the auburn glow of the rising sun streaking through the clear front windows, is blissfully silent.

Well, I'm not surprised. Uncle Leo does have a tendency to sleep through the last few hours of his graveyard shift at the museum. I enter the kitchen and just like the rest of the house, its white and black-trimmed monochrome walls are also sparsely decorated. Then again, there's little point in furnishing the house when we would just pack up our bags in 2 years' time and move again depending on where Uncle Leo's new job takes him next.

As I take a box of cereal and some slices of toast from the shelves to prepare breakfast, I muse over my life with Uncle Leo so far. First thing that comes to mind: we move _a lot_. I'm not exactly sure why but I can only guess that it concerns his job, although Uncle Leo never delved much into the specifics. I never did ask many questions about it back then seeing as how hard Uncle Leo worked to raise me and provide for us throughout the years.

As for me, I never really got to know my parents. According to Uncle Leo, Mom died shortly after I was born. It was an unfortunate accident that involved a really bad car crash, or so I'm told. And Dad? Well, he left when I was four and from there on, it was Uncle Leo and me all the way. So much so to the point that I really never did grieve much over the fact that I could hardly remember my birth parents; Uncle Leo eased himself into that void and has been there for me ever since.

Sure, he tries his best to make us feel like a normal, tight-knit family; the obligatory birthdays, we've celebrated; the more traditional holidays like New Years and Christmases, we've done our best to honor; but from what Uncle Leo and I share, we're definitely _more_ than just your average family. He's more than just a foster parent; he means the world to me.

Also, the incessant moving pretty much kept my mind off of the matter anyways. If memory serves me right, our current residence in the suburbs of New Madison in the United North American States is the 6th house we have occupied in our nomadic lifestyle. Much like the current state of the house, I've been leading a rather lonely life most of the time. It's not really my personality because Uncle Leo constantly remarks on just how talkative I can be with others. I'm a sociable person, but the constant moving makes it hard to find and maintain long-term friends.

I remember the many times I would throw a tantrum over the matter and the helpless yet pained expression on Uncle Leo's face as he tried unsuccessfully to console me. But let's face it: I was, and still am a teenager and these things can be rough on someone at who just wants to blend in, settle down, hang out with friends and lead an otherwise ordinary life. However, my life is anything _but_ ordinary. And it's not just the constant moving around either.

I finish my breakfast and down a glass of milk from the refrigerator only to notice that through my reverie, I took a good ten minutes longer than usual for breakfast. Having placed the plates in the dishwasher, I remember my school bag upstairs.

_Damn it!_

I curse my absent-mindedness. I usually never get to hear the end of it from Uncle Leo. I hurriedly stomp my way upstairs, grab my bag hanging by the edge of the bed, shove my datapad inside and rush downstairs. My watch display shows 7.45, meaning that I have ten minutes to complete the otherwise fifteen minutes commute to school. In my rush, I don't even notice the blue skycar pulling up into the driveway.

As I approach the bottom of the stairwell, I jump down the last few flights. I turn left through the living room to head to the front door. The otherwise red, 'locked' holographic door display blinks green and with the soft hiss of pneumatics, the door slides open to reveal a sleep-deprived and yawning turian standing in the doorway.

"Uncle Leo!" I exclaim, relieved. "Great, you're finally back!"

"Why yes, I am. What's the matter?" the turian speaks in that distinctive flanging voice of his.

"Now, I know how you're always telling me to be early to school but just for this once, can you please, please, _please_ drive me to school?" I plead like a five year old. "I'm running a little late."

Oh, have I mentioned the fact that Uncle Leo's a turian? A middle-aged turian who's finally starting to show his age, as attested to by his grey, wrinkled faceplates. The odd skin pigmentation of his that leaves a streak of white across his features only added to the effect. Coupled with that ridiculous fringe-hat that he insists on wearing wherever he goes, Uncle Leo's a far cry from your everyday turian. So, there you have it. We're both exemplary models of an interspecies family.

"Nate, I think you probably already know this but the answer's no," he replies, punctuated with a very _big_ yawn.

_Could their mandibles even stretch like that_?

"We've had this conversation before and besides, if you've gotten yourself out of bed sooner, you wouldn't be late in the first place." A bleary-eyed Uncle Leo brushes his way past me, wobbles a little and collapses head-first into the sofa, still fully dressed in his blue turian suit and all. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've had a very long night in setting up the latest turian exhibit in the museum. I could use some shut-eye right about now."

"But Uncle Leo, this is an emergen––" I needn't bother. The poor old turian's already fast asleep with a blissful smile on his face. And the fact that he's mumbling something about supportive hips and drooling all over the cushions means that I won't be getting him up for the next few hours or so.

I sigh in exasperation and storm through the front doors, having already been deprived of precious seconds. In my haste, I catch myself mid-way down the porch steps and double back to activate the lock on the door. Then, I sprint off as fast as my legs would carry me towards the nearest monorail stop. I, for one, do not intend to ruin this bright and perfect day by being late to school. After all, what could be worse than showing up to school late for the umpteenth time?

* * *

"Target acquired. Scans show positive identification." A blonde man dressed in a black suit and seated in an inconspicuous car speaks into his omnitool's communications display as he watches from across the street, a human teen exiting a house and then dashing off hysterically to the Westport Valley monorail stop. "Affirmative, the operation is a go No, back-up won't be necessary; I can handle this myself."

"Remind me to congratulate Operative Kaimori on rediscovering the trail. If it wasn't for him, this case would be dead after we lost them in Jakarta 3 years ago," the man continues as he reaches over to the passenger seat to pick up a datapad and starts scanning through its screen that display the respective dossier of his two targets.

_Leonus Daelon, turian male in his late 40s; and Nathaniel Sunderland codenamed Project Remnant, human male, age 17. 14 years on the run and they've been right here on Earth all this time. Who would've thought?_

He activates the communications line. "Unless there have been changes over the years, I believe the mission parameters still hold?" A voice at the end of line chatters indistinctively.

"Understood." The man pauses for a moment as he weighs in on his options. "Once I give the go-ahead, send the team to rendezvous at my current coordinates for the extraction of the package."

The plan is simple. Get in, get out, quick and quiet. If the turian interferes, he'll have no qualms about neutralizing the threat. Besides, he'll be doing this entire operation a favor by taking that damned turian out of the picture. If it wasn't because of the turian repeatedly giving them the slip, they would've secured the kid a long time ago.

"Copy that. Wilkins out."

The line goes dead. The man shuts off his communications display, reaches for the M-65 Naginata sniper rifle propped against the passenger seat and extends its scope, barrel and stock. He cradles the weapon in his lap as he returns his gaze onto the unassuming house.

_I've been waiting years for you to show up again. What's the harm in waiting just a little longer?_

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**A/N: If it's much too short, I apologize but I can promise you that future chapters will be a lot longer so bear with me here, okay? XD**

**As much as writing this a great exercise in creative writing, I also want to do the Mass Effect universe justice. So, I really look forward to feedback on how I'm doing so far. Also, suggestions and ideas would be gladly appreciated though I can't promise that I can work all of them into my story. Hope you enjoyed it and stay tuned for the next chapter! I hope to update this on a weekly basis if college doesn't get too hectic.**


	3. High School Woes

**A/N: Well then, here's the next installment in the series. I'll probably stick to this schedule from now on out, updating consistently every Friday unless something prevents me from doing so. Once again, thanks for checking this story out and I hope you'll like it!**

**Also, a note on the universe, seeing as how there's no specific Codex entry which details whether or not there are any alien expatriates who live on Earth, I decided to take a few creative liberties with the lore. Since humanity's already a significant presence among the intergalactic community in the canonical timeline that this story is written (year 2183, prior to and during Mass Effect 1), it's only reasonable that the other non-human species would be interested in our race and our home planet right? So, be it for economic purposes or cultural studies, non-human expatriates (the more popular Council races would seem a more likely possibility - hence, the asaris and turians) would already be living in several major cities of Earth. I hope this won't mess up with the canon too much, now would it?**

**With that issue clarified, let's get this show on the road! Before I forget, the Mass Effect brand name and universe is the sole property of Bioware. Enjoy!**

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**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 2 – High School Woes

_Oh God, I made it just in the nick of time_.

The faint façade of the brightly-colored school buildings come into view as the monorail approaches its stop on Middleton Street. As soon as the doors slide open, I bolt out and hightail it for the front doors of Madison-Middleton High. The dull, rapid thuds of my footfalls echo across the slowly stirring suburban streets. School's about to start and I see the last few straggling cars dropping off their kids at the front steps.

Canopies of orange and yellow trees, colors that mark the fall season, fly by me overhead as I will my legs to pump as fast as they could carry me. The neighborhood's typical of that of New Madison; swathes of green and autumn-speckled lawns dotted with quaint and middle-class utilitarian houses. Despite the modernistic, white and chrome matte designs of the 22nd century, most of the houses in the suburbs incorporated a more rustic maple-wood décor into its overall architecture.

The cool, fragrant breeze coming from over the still waters of Lake Mendota is a respite because I'm seriously starting to sweat buckets here from that physical exertion. I glance over to the majestic skyline of downtown New Madison and its bustling skyways lying across the lake on my right. This reminds me, I need to have Uncle Leo take me down there to renew those mixed-martial arts lesson at the studio.

Several moments later, I finally arrive at the front steps and gaze up at the large holographic clock settled just above the emblazoned words of 'Madison-Middleton High'.

8.01.

_Just a few more minutes before classes starts. I'm gonna make it! _

I take the stairs two at a time and burst through the front doors of the school into the clean and orderly décor of its tiled-floor hallway. Turning a corner, I can literally feel my heart sink. _Great, just what I needed_. Of all the days, it just _had _to be this day. Sheldon and Brock, the two greatest douchebags and bullies in school, stand in the middle of the hallway.

Of course, I pray that I might get lucky today, and that the two have found some other new kid to push around. Knowing me, I have no such luck.

"Oh, hey! Look at what we have here today!" the physically-intimidating Brock finally catches sight of me. "Looks like someone's running a little late for class," he continues in that deep, jeering voice. _God, is his voice always this grating and annoying? Or did all of the school bullies sound that way?_

"Great observation, Captain Obvious. So could you please just leave me alone and let me get to class?" I exasperatedly sigh.

"Well, sure. Don't let _us_ keep you waiting." Sheldon advances on me, a malicious grin on his face.

I bite back the urge to just shove my fist into Brock's despicable and ugly face. If it wasn't because of Uncle Leo and how he's always trying so hard to make sure I stay out of trouble, I'd have beaten them to a pulp in two seconds flat. Guess the only good thing about moving a lot and an interest in martial arts is that you pick up plenty of moves at different dojos in each new city.

Despite the fact that Brock stands at least a full head above me, I know I can take him on. He's also really big and slow. From what I see, I'd say scrawny Sheldon would put up more of a fight. A penchant for seeing others suffer, coupled with a megalomaniac need to exert control over others can really do things to an otherwise normal, average kid like Sheldon.

"Really?" I skeptically ask, despite knowing the reply I'll get in return.

"Well, today _is_ Beat Up Weird Kids with Alien Parents Day and frankly, it's a day we'd like to honor." Brock cracks his knuckles, illustrating his point. "So what say you join in on the fun as well, huh?"

"Yeah, we've got something special planned out just for you." Sheldon chimes in.

_Oh boy, here we go again._ _The good ol' high school routine._

It's always the same everywhere – a new guy waltzes into school and a target's automatically painted on his back when everyone finally sees the freakish old turian as his foster parent. It only gets worse when the bullies start picking on you.

The only thing stopping me from fighting back is that the trouble of getting into a fight just isn't worth it, at least for Uncle Leo's sake. Nothing says disappointment more so than that solemn yet awkward expression of his when he sits in the principal's office and has to be personally informed of my misdemeanors.

Moreover, we're still putting down our roots in town and wherever possible, I'd like to have this process go as smoothly as possible, both for me and especially for Uncle Leo. Getting into a fight and then risking disciplinary measures from the school board isn't exactly going to help, no matter how much Sheldon and Brock are asking for it. And because of that, I just let the bullies take it out on me, day after friggin' day.

I swear it's getting old real fast.

It takes every fibre of my being to just stay still and brace myself to take that punch definitely aimed towards my face. Thankfully, a classroom door nearby slides opens and out steps a figure of authority.

"And beating up the new transfer student is a perfectly justifiable reason for interrupting my classes?" the tall, lanky man stares down the ivory frames of his glasses at us.

"Oh, Mr. Barnson! Well, sorry to disappoint but we were just making sure Nate here got to classes on time, weren't we, Sheldon?" Brock releases the grip on my shirt and drops his balled-up fist all the while smiling good-naturedly at Mr. Barnson, my teacher for first period Theoretical Chemistry.

Great. Saved by the one person who's just gonna grill me out on my tardiness for the umpteenth time. Oh, the irony of it all.

"Uh-huh," Mr. Barnson nods his head disbelievingly. "Well, thank you very much for your concern but you two," he motions to Brock and Sheldon with disapproving eyes, "better run on off to your classes and as for you, Mr. Sunderland," he turns his hawk-like gaze onto me, "owe me an explanation on why you show up late the third time this month."

"Uh, well uh…" and before I can come up with a coherent reply, he shoves me briskly albeit a bit too forcefully for my taste into the class. Several heads whirl around to face the latecomer and I can feel a slight flushing of my cheeks at the sudden, unwanted attention.

The class itself isn't all that big, 20 or so students seated in an orderly pattern at their desks on which the holographic display panels and their computer terminals are housed. As for the student demographic, we're very much a human-populated school. But in my class, we kinda lucked out with this asari sitting just in front of me, courtesy of the school's recently-introduced intergalactic exchange student program.

Oh boy, is she the most beautiful thing that I've ever laid my eyes on. The blue pigmentation of her skin, her exotic head-fringe, her perfectly-sculpted face and cheekbones, and the grace with which she carries herself; if I didn't know better, I'd say she was a goddess. I mean, it's not that I have a fetish for inter-species relationships or stuff like that but _damn, _none of the girls in school come even close to her in terms of beauty and personality.

_Well, Uncle Leo sure wasn't kidding when it came to asaris._

Mr. Barnson clears his throat behind me. "If you're done gawping at Miss Linaya, I suggest you take your seat, Mr. Sunderland."

That earns a few muffled giggles from the class and even Ranae herself who can't help but suppress a smile. Great, now I can literally feel my cheeks turn a tomato-hued red. I wonder if it's even possible to die from embarrassment alone. Mumbling an apology of sorts, I take my seat behind her, unconsciously admiring the sculpted weaves of skin behind her head.

"So class, if there aren't any more interruptions, please turn your attention to Chapter 18 for today's class." Mr. Barnson's voice drones at the front of the class.

I power on the terminal and thumb through the yellow display screen to select the appropriate lesson module. Ranae turns back to me with an amused smirk on her face which only exacerbates the already burning sensation in my face.

_Great going, Nate. What a way to start off the school day._

* * *

3.00 pm. The school bell chimes, signaling the end of classes and the hallways soon fill with the frenzied shuffling of feet. I hang back in the classroom, not eager to get caught up with the crowds of students making a mad dash for the front entrance. I get up and stretch myself after napping through Intergalactic Relations classes. Gosh, the way Mrs. Traviss rants on and on about intergalactic matters and affairs kinda makes me prefer enduring yet another one of Uncle Leo's tirades about the wonders of the human culinary arts.

The hallways are mostly empty now as I duck my head outside to have a peek until a soft-spoken voice startles me.

"Mr. Sunderland, I don't suppose if you have a moment?" I pray with all my might that it's not who I think it is and turn around, only to be greeted with the resplendent features of none other than Ranae Linaya.

_Oh snap. _

"Oh…I, uh…just call me Nate," I mumble, stumbling all over my words.

"Okay then, Nate," she beams. "Listen, I've been meaning to talk to someone and make friends ever since my arrival here. But so far, everyone I've talked to here seems uncomfortable around me. I guess it must be because I'm the only asari here in this school. I was hoping that you would at least be more open to me seeing as how you're no stranger to a species outside of your own," she flashes me that sweet yet sheepish asari smile of hers. For a species not of our kind, she sure does speak our language fluently and it's been only 3 months that she's been here. "After all, you do have a turian as a foster parent."

"Uh…okay?" I stammer sheepishly, a speech impediment typical of whenever I'm around her.

"Great! Shall we talk about it while we walk?" She lights up, practically illuminating the whole room in my eyes. I can only nod wordlessly, too spell-bound to even find my voice.

_Whoa dude, take a second here and chill. You're hanging out with one of the most popular girl in school––if transfer students count, and if she even counts as a girl_. _I'm digressing again. Dammit. Back to the topic. If this doesn't boost my rep, I don't know what will. So, play it cool and just plain be yourself!_

Having wrapped up that little monologue in my head, I head on off after her, matching her pace to walk by her side down the hallway.

"About this morning….well, I just want to apologize. I totally didn't mean to do that."

"If by what you humans refer to as 'gawping', I'll take it as your species' genuine yet socially-awkward physical gesture of a compliment. For all it's worth, I thank you for it." She turns to me, seemingly brushing off this morning's little incident. It comes as a huge relief to me.

"So, what's this you've been meaning to ask about?" I prod on, somewhat reluctant to find out lest it involves some weird, embarrassing things concerning the asari culture.

"Well, I'm not as familiar with the social nuances and cues surrounding it," the look on concentration on her face suggests that she's struggling for the right words, "but I do believe it's not entirely inappropriate for us to…how do you humans say it, 'hang out' together sometimes?"

And at that very moment, the whole world seems to recede away from me, leaving me with only those few words echoing through my head. But when it finally sinks in, pure bliss literally courses through my veins. Thank God for any shred of dignity I have left because I'm about to jump for joy and scream my heart out there and then.

Ranae pauses in her tracks, her piercing violet eyes searching my face for some sort of a response.

_Crap. She's waiting for a reply! Quick, say something! You don't get another chance like this, dude! Just say yes! SAY IT! _

"Um, yeah, sure…I mean why not, right? I've never hung out with an asari before––no no no, I mean, yeah, sure! I'd….I'd love to hang out with you sometimes!" I stumble over every single word of my ill-prepared reply. Not cool. I think I should dig myself a hole to hide in now.

To my surprise, she giggles at me. "Well okay then, Nate. What say we meet up at this new downtown café, Thessia's Corner? I heard that they serve some decent asari cuisine which I think you'd absolutely love. Would Saturday morning at 10 be a good time?" Having exited the school building, we walk down the front steps.

"Yeah, sure. Saturday, 10 am. I'll be there."

"Great, then I'll see you Saturday, Nate. Thanks for agreeing to this."

"Oh, no. Thank _you,_" I watch her walk in the opposite direction towards the luxurious skycar that's already parked by the sidewalk, the hems of her pearl-colored asari dress billowing out from behind her in the breeze.

The horn of a car from behind jerks me awake from my reverie. _Wait a minute, I know the sound of that horn from anywhere_. I turn around and see the familiar figure of Uncle Leo waving out at me from his own skycar – a poor man's equivalent of Ranae's.

_So, somebody's finally up and awake_. I crack a small smile and wave back. Nothing beats a ride home after yet another long and boring day at school. Adjusting the straps of my bagpack on my shoulder, I set off for the car.

* * *

Several minutes later, I'm enjoying the relative warmth of the car's thermal regulators while we leisurely cruise down the suburbs heading back for home. The autumn sun on the horizon is getting ready to set, bathing the sky in an amalgamation of cerulean-blue and autumn-yellow. The soft, humming engine of the car creates a relaxing monotony which is fast lulling me into closing my eyes. I lay my head against the headrest and the distinctive flanging voice of Uncle Leo speaks up next to me.

"So, aren't you going to tell me anything about what's going on between the two of you?" he asks with an exaggerated emphasis on the last three words.

I inwardly groan, secretly hoping that he wouldn't have picked up on us. "Yeah, what about Ranae? We're just friends, nothing more." I answer as indifferently as possible, secretly hoping that he'd drop the subject.

"Oh really now? I saw the look in your face and the way you were behaving around her," he turns to look at me, a mischievous glint in those beady turian eyes of his. "Contrary to what you might think, we turians are a perceptive lot," Uncle Leo taps the side of his head as if to emphasize the point, "and I think that's something's _definitely_ going on between you two."

Dammit, I hate myself sometimes for giving in to Uncle Leo – the old turian knows me too damn well sometimes. "Ok, fine! We're kinda hanging out this weekend. It's not officially a date, but I think it might be?"

The turian chuckles in delight, a baritone sound that reverberates through the car. "Aha! I knew it! The looks and charms of an asari get you every single time!"

"Hey, I'm just an ordinary human guy. You can't blame me for liking what I see."

"In all seriousness though, I'm happy for you, Nate. She's got a pretty fringe and her hips look awfully supportive," he smirks. "She's a fine young woman by turians' standards and to tell you the truth, you could do worse, you know."

I stare at Uncle Leo disbelievingly, "Seriously? The fringe part was still acceptable, but supportive hips? Come on, Uncle Leo! Ew, it's only our first date!"

"Well, I'm just an ordinary turian and you can't blame me for liking what _I_ see," the turian retorts, smiles all the way. _Oh, touché, Uncle Leo, touché_. He continues on, "So, what are you two planning to do this weekend?"

"We're heading on down to this new café downtown. Thessia's Corner or something like that to, you know, hang out."

"Wow, I've to admit it. The girl's got some pretty good tastes. So, here's hoping that I get to be the best man at your wedding, provided you_ are_ going with a human wedding," and with that, he bursts off into another fit of laughter.

Several agonizing and awkward minutes later, we pull up to the front driveway of our house. I just can't help but notice that that black sedan opposite the street has been parked out there since the early morning. Meh, it's time to honor our teenage-bound traditions: neglect homework, procrastinate and indulge in everything non-academic.

As soon as the door slides open, I bound across the threshold and plop myself down onto the sofa, having placed my bagpack on the coffee table in front of me. I grab the remote, bring up its interface and click on one of the movie channels. The holoscreen in front of me flickers to life to show yet another rerun of the critically-acclaimed drama Gravity's Rainbow. Ugh, talk about boring.

Uncle Leo appears in the doorway and sidles over to the sofa, eyes keenly glued onto the screen. "Oh, I love this show! Mind if you stay on this channel, please?"

Like every other details that concern the human culture, Uncle Leo is fascinated by it. May they be books, movies or even our cuisine (yes, I am aware that a turian can die from eating our food, but strangely Uncle Leo seems to be immune to the allergic reactions), he's a total sucker for it. Don't know why though, the old turian is just a bit of an eccentric like that. Makes me wonder if there're others just like him out there.

"Well then, here's the remote," I get off the sofa and start for the stairs, "and I'm gonna go on the extranet for a while. See if there're any movies worth watching this weekend."

"Okay now. But if you're planning on watching it with Ranae, I'd suggest something more romantic," Uncle Leo calls out from behind me, eyes still firmly fixed onto the holo-screen which now depicts an overly-acted, tragic death scene. I roll my eyes.

As I cross the living room to the counter, I first hear the soft tinkling as if of cracking glass before our house's large, front window explodes into a glittering shimmer of shards.

Immediately, I turn around in time to see Uncle Leo crumple lifelessly to the floor. I see the bullet marks on the wall behind me, put two and two together and instinctively throw myself to the ground.

"Uncle Leo?" I call out, still numb with shock. "Uncle Leo! Answer me!" Panic makes itself known now and I can see my vision blurring with tears.

The prone turian lying on the floor doesn't respond.

* * *

**A/N: Boom! And so, I'll end this chapter here on a cliffhanger where we see that things are really starting to heat up. Each chapter's length is definitely getting longer now, and hopefully it'll stay that way until I find a sweet spot for the length that I can comfortably crank each chapter out with. Once again, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it and constructive criticisms and reviews are more than welcome!**


	4. In Hot Pursuit

**Author's Notes: I hope that all of you have been patient with me for the update. Like I said, I'll be updating this every Friday on a consistent basis if there's nothing to get in the way of it. Once again, thanks for taking the time to read this, and I hope you enjoyed it. **

**So, where we last left off, things didn't look too good for our two protagonists there. In this chapter, shit's about to get real and I hope you'll like this action-packed chapter. After all, this is my first time writing an action scene of some sort. To enhance the experience, having the battle tunes from the Mass Effect games blast in the background while you're reading this wouldn't be too bad of an idea too.**

**Mass Effect is property of Bioware and I thank them all for crafting this wonderful universe for us fans to live in. Without further ado, enjoy! =)**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 3

"Uncle Leo?" I see the unmoving figure of the only one parental figure I've ever known lying lifelessly on the glass-strewn floor. My body's numb with fear and shock. I can feel tears slowing streaming down my cheeks, nothing more than a sensation of hot moisture amidst the panic that's slowly welling up in my chest.

I call out again, desperately hoping for a reply. Desperately hoping for that reassuring voice to respond and once again make right everything that's going wrong with my life. Right now, this is as fucked up as my life gotten so far. One minute it's just another day in our everyday, inconsequential life and suddenly, someone starts shooting up our house and Uncle Leo for reasons unknown.

"Uncle Leo, you'd better not be leaving me just like how Dad did. I swear to God, you'd better not be!" I start crawling my way across the glass-strewn floor towards his lifeless figure, making a clear point to avoid the windows.

No sooner than I begin to inch my way towards him, Uncle Leo stirs and opens his dazed eyes before letting out a groan of pain. "What the hell happened?" Then his eyes snap into clear focus and he looks fervently around his surroundings before his eyes come to rest upon me.

"Oh, thank the spirits you're okay, Nate. You're not shot or anything, are you?"

"No, I don't think so. I'm good."

Uncle Leo breathes a sigh of relief before reaching up to unbutton his suit. Underneath lies the distinctive weave of a bulletproof vest, complete with kinetic barrier nodes. He lets his head slump to the floor and breathes in lungfuls of air to quell the pain of what I think would soon be an ugly bruise.

"To think that my paranoia would pay off one day, who knew?" he mutters amidst fitful gasps of air.

"Uncle Leo! You're alright!" I exclaim, barely able to contain my relief (and tears) as I start to dart over to him.

"No! You stay right there! Stay behind the counter!" Uncle Leo whispers in a hushed manner. Anxiety is written all across his words and I'm taken aback at the unfamiliar tone of his voice.

"Okay, Nate. I need you to listen real carefully and do exactly as I say."

I nod wordlessly, finally letting the gravity of the situation sink in.

"On the counter that you're behind, there should be a drawer there. It should be the second one on your right. Dig through the contents and I want you to pass to me what you find at the bottom of the drawer, okay? Now, hurry up! I'll bet that whoever shot at us is making sure he or she gets the job done."

With a new-found sense of urgency, I pull the afore-mentioned drawer open and start rummaging through its contents. Having sifted through plenty of fine cutlery and silverware which we never got around to using, my hand touches the distinctive cold metal not like that of the silverware.

I pull my hand out of the drawer to reveal a pistol; its polished surface reflecting an eerie glint in the fluorescent luminescence of the house. What the hell? Since when did we start keeping guns in the house? Oh boy, we're really in deep now, aren't we?

"Nate! Quick, slide it over to me!" Uncle Leo stretches out a beckoning talon.

I do as I'm told and slide the pistol over to Uncle Leo who grabs and puts the weapon out of sight in the folds of his suit.

"Now, I want you to go out the back door and start up the car, alright?"

"But what about you, Uncle Leo? No way I'm leaving you like this!"

"Just go on, I'll catch up with you."

I look at the expression on the turian's face as conflicting emotions wracked me from within. Should I stay at his side or go do as he says, hoping that it's all going to be alright?

Sensing my hesitation, Uncle Leo cracks a small, wide-mandibled smile from where he's still lying on the floor. "And since when have I ever let you down, huh?" he grunts as he shifts his body to look me in the eye, "I don't intend to start just yet."

That's all the reassurance I need to get going. Still poised in a crouch, I hug the walls and slowly work my way towards the house's back door that lie just beyond the kitchen. The adrenaline's kicking in now and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I approach the door. The suspense's starting to get to me now. Not knowing just who or what the hell was shooting at us only just added to the need to get going and to get somewhere safe. I'd better hurry. Who knows how much time I have left?

Apparently, not enough.

The red, holographic 'locked' display on the front door flickers intermittently between its shade of red and green, which means that someone's definitely hacking their way in.

"Crap." I immediately duck behind the corner of the kitchen.

And no sooner than I disappear out of view, the hiss of pneumatics soon follow and the door slides open to reveal a man fully attired in a black suit. Oh, and he has a pistol of his own leveled and primed too.

Peeking out from the corner, I see his eyes sweeping the entire room before cautiously stepping over to Uncle Leo's prone body. God, I hope that Uncle Leo knows what he's doing.

Suddenly, Uncle Leo springs up with a cry and catching the man by surprise, proceeds to pistol-whip the man in one fluid motion. The man easily ducks the incoming blow and with incredible speed, lashes out with a kick, knocking the wind out of the turian. Sensing the opportunity, he strikes out at the staggering turian with his free hand, pulls him into a grapple to disarm Uncle Leo's handgun before expertly judo-throwing him onto the ground.

_Shit_. This guy's definitely a trained professional.

The man in black aims his pistol at the defenseless turian lying on the ground to deliver the coup de grace and before I know it, I'm already bounding halfway across the threshold. I kick forward with my right leg at his outstretched arm and throw off his aim in the nick of time. The pistol fires off-target, narrowly missing Uncle Leo and the shot ricochets off the floor.

Surprise colors his expression but it vanishes in the fraction of a second that he takes to counter my incoming right hook. Thankfully, Uncle Leo clamps down on the man's right leg with his talons. Suddenly finding himself with limited mobility, he's unable to get clear and my fist connects with a satisfying crunch on his jaw, knocking off his black-rimmed sunglasses in the process.

With the man still dazed from the previous blow, I waste no time in pummeling him to kingdom come. Still held in place by the turian's vice-like grip, I launch a series of punches, jabs and haymakers before culminating the built-up momentum into a devastating roundhouse kick that sends the man off his feet and crashing onto what once was our coffee table.

"Well, that takes care of him," panting from the sudden physical exertion, I turn my attention towards Uncle Leo and help him up to his feet, "So, what now?"

Uncle Leo reaches down and picks up his dropped pistol, "We start the car and get going."

"Why? We can't just leave him like this."

"Trust me, I doubt if he's alone in this. Others might already be on their way here. We need to leave _now_."

"But what about the house—" I turn to protest but Uncle Leo puts a reassuring arm on my shoulder.

"Nate, forget the house. We need to forget him," the turian gestures at the unconscious man, "and most of all, we need to forget all of this. What matters right now, is the fact that we need to _go_."

I'm left confused and speechless at just how quickly these events are unfolding. I'm just overcome by the suddenness of it all. What the hell just happened? An unknown man suddenly barges into our house and shoots the place up and now we're going to leave just like that? Uproot our lives again and just leave? The slightest bit of anger boils up within me, trying to struggle free from the tumult of emotions running through me.

And where the heck are we going to go? And even if we did have someplace to go, what about our lives back here? What's going to happen? But as I see Uncle Leo stare despondently out the front door, I know better than to ask questions. The anger slowly ebbs away, leaving now a sense of tired resignation in its wake. Seeing that weary look on his face is enough to tell me that there's little chance our lives are ever going to go back to the way it was after this little turn of events. And that the answers I'm sure I don't want to hear about this whole incident, and perhaps even our entire lifetime on the move will come soon enough.

So, we're moving again, albeit a bit more abruptly this time around. I know that I'm just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. Guess that date with Ranae isn't going to happen after all. I knew it was too good to be true. Damn it.

"Grab your bagpack, Nate. We're leaving," Uncle Leo calls from where he's already standing at the threshold of the front door. I grab my bagpack which is lying next to the man who I've knocked out cold and sling it over my shoulders. He seems to already be stirring awake.

"What about this guy? Can't you just...you know...shoot him dead? He almost tried to kill us, for God's sake!"

Uncle Leo replies without losing a beat, "Even if I do, there'll still be more coming after us. Besides, I don't need to give the authorities the evidence to charge me with murder. It won't help much if we plan to stay low, especially where we'll be heading after this."

We rush out through the front door and into the chill evening air. Immediately, we hop into our skycar, buckle ourselves down and with a roar of the engines, we shoot off along the main driveway. Just in the nick of time too, as I glimpse the man in black staggering out of the house towards his parked car.

"Uncle Leo, not to point out the obvious, but I think you might wanna speed up a little," I motion to the dashboard's rear view display which shows the black car on the curb revving up its engines.

"Heh. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that there's going to be a chase scene after the little scuffle at the house, huh? I swear to the spirits, you humans live real life like you do your action movies," Uncle Leo steps down on the pedal and the car jerks forward with sudden speed, "Now buckle up and hold on tight. It's gonna be a wild ride."

Great. Now the turian's gone from making movie references to actually living them out. Just as long as he drives as well as he does his action movie quips, I'd be more than happy to get out of this alive.

At an intersection, Uncle Leo sharply veers the car out of the green-lined shrubbery of the suburbs and onto the main skyway leading through downtown New Madison, with the black car behind us hot on our tails. It's starting to get close to rush hour and the skyways are already getting congested with traffic. Definitely not a good sign.

"Um, you do know that traffic's going to be heavy this time of the day right, Uncle Leo?"

"All the better to lose him in the crowd."

Good point. Oh wait…_shit_.

Just as we're about to rear-end the car in front of us, Uncle Leo jerks the steering wheel to the left, narrowly dodging the vehicle but putting us on the wrong side of the road. The turian skillfully weaves the car in and out of oncoming traffic, with several near misses as other vehicles swerve desperately to avoid us. On the dashboard's display, I can see that the black car behind us is already having trouble navigating through the pile-up of cars that Uncle Leo has left in his wake.

The imposing skyline of New Madison rushes towards us at an alarming rate, the light of the fading sun basking the skyscrapers of the city in an ethereal light. Soon after, the buildings of New Madison tower over both of us as we race at breakneck speed through the metropolis's congested downtown avenues and boulevards.

"Where the hell are we headed?" I manage to ask as I cling onto my seat for dear life as Uncle Leo ducks and maneuvers the car around any single opening in traffic at dangerous speeds.

"Verona Interplanetary Spaceport—" and before he can finish, we are interrupted by the shattering of the car's rear windshield and a bevy of small-arms fire coming from the car's rear.

"Ah…fuck!" the turian curses as he swerves left and right to strafe the hail of bullets.

I push myself as low into the seats as possible for cover while Uncle Leo grimaces as he fumbles around for his own pistol. Having found a good grip on the gun, he smashes open the driver's side windows and fires off several rounds at our pursuer behind us, all the while trying to navigate the car through the never-ending stream of traffic.

"Damn it, he's gaining on us!" Uncle Leo retreats back into the driver's seat.

No sooner too as the black car suddenly pulls alongside us. The black-suited man eyes us with silent contempt before pulling away and then ramming his own vehicle into ours. The sudden collision knocks me off balance and our car is slightly thrown off-course but Uncle Leo thankfully manages to regain control.

"Shit!"

He rams into us again and this time, he tries pushing us off the road into the way of oncoming traffic. The grinding of metal is ear-jarring and sparks fly as the two cars lock together, vying desperately to remain on this side of the road.

As he attempts another try to send us careening out of control, Uncle Leo immediately brandishes his pistol with his free hand and lets loose a volley of shots at the black car. Several shots ping harmlessly off the hood whereas some others shatter the windshields. Guess it was warning enough for the man to retreat momentarily.

Uncle Leo scans the road ahead. "We'll try to lose him in that multistory skyway in front. Brace yourself!"

I turn my attention to the road ahead. It's N. Randall Avenue; one of downtown's major skyway intersections. A complex network of skyways that spans 4 levels, N. Randall Avenue crisscrosses various skyscrapers and smaller sky routes in the business district of New Madison. The intersection itself sees the passing of more than several thousand skycars per day, and it's the perfect spot to evade our pursuer. That is, provided we ascend and cut through the thick swaths of vehicles to get to the other side of the avenue.

"Are you crazy? There's no way we're going to make it through! Not with this kind of traffic!" I exclaim, the alarm clearly evident in my voice now.

"Impossible? Let me tell you what's impossible, Nate. I raised you. A turian raising a human kid like you? And the fact that you turned out alright? I'd say that's impossible. But guess what, it isn't." The turian turns to me, his eyes exuding a sense of calm confidence. "So trust me, we're going to make it."

I gulp. From where I'm sitting, I can see the streams of headlights of numerous skycars cruising along the intersections and the gargantuan span of cars that we're going to have to weave through. Not one to doubt Uncle Leo's words, I'm just going to have to trust him on this. He's gotten us this far, so why not go all the way?

The intersection races closer and closer, details of the cars and skyscrapers coming into clear focus. With a look of pure concentration on his face, he takes one deep breath and guns the engine, shooting the car forward. All I can do is sit still, grab hold onto the front dashboard with a white-knuckle grip and put all my trust in Uncle Leo. Time to take that leap of faith.

The passage of time slows as we enter the first stream of traffic at a nearly perpendicular angle, jetting through the small gaps left in between the traffic. The bottoms of automobiles rocket past us overhead, coming so perilously close that I can even feel the paint of our car peeling off from the contact.

We emerge through the first hurtle relatively unscathed and as Uncle Leo's hands and feet work with inhuman-like reflexes, we are thrown off our current horizontal trajectory to soar vertically upwards. The sudden change of motion results in the inertia slamming me into my seat before the gravitational dampeners kick into effect and the force of gravity relinquishes its hold on me.

It's an otherworldly sight when viewed from my current perspective. The skyscrapers seem like grand spires extending and reaching out toward the infinite expanse of the setting sky, with rapid, flowing streams of headlights like that of a train of fireflies dancing across my vision. The resplendence of it all lasts but a transitory moment as we plunge again into traffic.

Our luck holds as we ascend through the ranks of the heavily-trafficked skyways, with Uncle Leo maneuvering the skycar to perform impossible twists and turns at every turn to worm our way through traffic. Several heart-stopping moments later, we finally arrive on the other side of the avenue, looking no worse for wear.

"Holy. Shit." I mutter breathlessly, wide-eyed and still in shock.

"There you go. What did I tell you, huh?" Uncle Leo himself breathes out a sigh of relief, his own voice taxed from that insane little stunt he just pulled. "Well, we can't afford to just hang about here," he peers at the rear display panel, "even if we might have lost him."

"Yeah." I stiffly nod.

"Verona Spaceport it is then. I just hope Lyraxus has the ship all prepped and ready for us."

Wait, what? A ship?

Before I could question further, my thoughts are interrupted as I'm pushed backwards into the seat as the car picks up speed again. Despite having just lived through a potentially lethal scenario, you'd think one could just sit back and catch a breath. Not with Uncle Leo, though. Although I do wonder what's his rush of getting to the spaceport. Shouldn't we like, report this to the local authorities or even the police instead? We _were_ almost murdered, for God's sakes.

So I make my opinions known. "Uncle Leo, shouldn't we go the police instead and report this little incident? I mean, with the house and now this—"

"No. No time. Besides, I doubt if this is even anything that the local police will be able to handle. We just have to get out of here."

"But—" Again, I'm interrupted.

"Nate," the turian sighs wearily, his eyes refusing to meet mine, still fixated on the road ahead, "Look. I know this isn't making much sense to you right now. But you just have to be patient. I'll explain everything when we're out of this mess, alright? I promise."

Sensing that familiar tone in his voice, I know I'm not going to get much more out of him. Better to just stay quiet and wait for those answers that, even after 17 years, are yet to come. Who knows, perhaps after what transpired today, there's no way he can possibly keep the truth away from me now. And he'd better not. Because my patience is really starting to run thin.

Thus, we leave the towering skyline of the city behind and cruise along the highway that flanks the great lakes of Wisconsin. Having slowed down our pace just a little after Uncle Leo is sure that our pursuer isn't still on our tails, our car joins the ranks of the others heading along Route 115 to Verona Interplanetary Spaceport. The dusk sky pretty much reflects the somber tone in the car, the slowly emerging constellations of stars twinkling as though weeping for the predicament I now find myself caught in.

Just what the hell is going on here?

* * *

**Author's notes: And so, the plot thickens. Whatever will happen next? *Gasp***

**Well, I'd like to thank all you readers for being patient with me. I know the story gets off to a slow and rocky start but I can promise you that things are going to start getting interesting from here on out. Heck, you'd probably even meet a familiar face or two, so keep an eye out. **

**Once again, I look forward to hearing what you guys think of the story so far and all criticisms are welcome. Try to keep it constructive, guys! **

**Stay tuned for the next chapter! Until then, toodles~**


	5. Adventure Awaits!

**Author's notes: And I'm back with the next chapter update! Hope you'll enjoy where the story is going so far. Wouldn't want to bore you all with all the unnecessary author's notes so I'm just going to keep this short and simple! **

**The Mass Effect series and all its characters within are the sole property of Bioware. Kudos to them for crafting this universe and letting us fans have a field day in it! **

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 4 - Adventure Awaits

Wow.

Only one word comes to mind as we near the hectic Verona Spaceport. Underneath the night sky, the spaceport is awash with the white glow of phosphorescent lighting that radiates from the spaceport's large network of interconnected structures and buildings. Add the thrusters of numerous space shuttles and ships taking off as well as the blue, streaking hue of mass effect fields that envelop their hulls into the mix, and it pretty much makes for a picturesque image that I would forever frame in my mind's eye.

Come to think of it, this is pretty much my first time ever in being to a real spaceport. While we traveled across United North America during our constant time on the move, we usually got by on Uncle Leo's skycar alone. I've always wondered why he never resorted to using space shuttles instead. They were so much more convenient and it would have saved us plenty of time when we travelled from one city to the next. I guess it must have had something to do with today. Heck, I'll bet everything that happened during all these years was one way or another related to today's little incident.

The buildings come into sharper focus now as we turn off the main skyway onto the off-ramp, which judging by the holographic signboards, would lead us to the spaceport's departure terminals. From a ways off, I instantly recognize that the buildings are distinctly human in terms of its architecture. Simplistic, practical yet elegant in its glass-fronted design and featuring mostly an amalgamation of various geometric shapes, Verona Spaceport is truly a sight to see, especially when brilliantly lit up during the night. The fact that the hustle and bustle of the spaceport just puts into perspective how small Earth is in the entire galaxy is a sobering notion that settles rather uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. .

Pulling myself back into the present, I'm left a little confused as to why Uncle Leo pulls out of the lane of traffic and stops the car on the curb directly opposite the departure halls' main doors.

"What are you doing, Uncle Leo? You sure it's okay to just leave the car like this?" I ask, grimacing a little at the weird looks people are giving us.

"We're not going to need it anymore. So, we might as well." Uncle Leo says a little morosely as he proceeds to clamber out of the vehicle.

"Wait, what?"

Only then do I realize the full extent of his words and intentions. Holy crap. We're _actually_ going to be leaving Earth. That would explain the spaceport. I grab my bag and hurry out after the turian already crossing the road. "You mean, like, we're never coming back here again? As in, Earth? That we're actually going to head on out to one of those other worlds out there?"

"Exactly." Uncle Leo steps through the automated glass-paneled doors into the relative chill of the building. "Though for how long, I don't know. Still," he cracks a small smile at me in an attempt to brighten the mood, "look on the bright side. You're finally getting the chance to leave Earth and see the galaxy. Maybe we'll even drop by Palaven too, your old uncle's homeworld."

Okay, now I'm left with a roller-coaster whirl of emotions. Confusion, excitement, a tinge of regret and worry, I can't decide what to feel. Sifting through the tumult of emotions, I decide that to be sure I don't get my hopes up just yet, there's a question that needs asking.

"What about school? I have what, half a year left to graduation? I can't just drop out all of a sudden."

Uncle Leo pauses in his steps, a brief pause in his brisk stride the only visible cue to show that he's thinking it through. He finally relents.

"What's a few more months of school to you? You're already getting decent enough grades. Besides, turians your age would already be enlisted in the military and some of the turians I know turned out to be just fine. I don't see any harm in you just dropping school for the time being."

It takes some time for his words to register and even longer still for me to react to this news. Despite all that's happened in the past few hours (and the obviously apparent flaw in causal reasoning and comparisons), Uncle Leo's response throws my brain into a bigger frenzy of conflicting emotions.

On one hand, summer break comes early this year round and I'm about to spend my self-proclaimed holidays on my first intergalactic voyage ever! True, nothing's more awesome than seeing the sights and sounds of entirely new worlds but there's something wrong with just leaving like this without notice. I mean, we _were_ almost killed. Shouldn't the authorities be notified or something? For all we know, our would-be killer is still out there and who's to say that he won't be following us to wherever we're going?

"I think of sort of understand the need to leave but whoever it is that tried to kill us could still be out there! For the last time, shouldn't we at least inform the police or file a report or something?" I ask again, still not completely buying what Uncle Leo has just said.

"The galaxy's a big place, Nate. I doubt if he'll be able to track us down if we just lay low somewhere for a while. Besides, we're going to see someone who can sort this whole mess out, okay? Trust me." The turian breaks out into a slightly wider smile now; yet the hunched shoulders and his sordid, urgent steps suggest otherwise.

I know that tone all too well. _Trust me_. It's something I find harder and harder to do as the years go by. Everything's always so damn mysterious and secretive with Uncle Leo, especially when it concerns the things I believe I should be entitled to know. Like why Dad left or why we're always moving all the time. Sure, Uncle Leo gives his best to answer my questions, however vague his answers are, but I suspect that there's more to his answers than he lets on. Guess there's not much choice in the matter, not when both of our lives are at stake. "Fine. Lead the way, Uncle Leo."

By now, we've entered the main terminal building and wormed our way across the large threshold to a section of the spaceport that catered to travelers with privately-owned starships, if the direction panels are any indication. Wait, privately-owned starships? Oh boy, this day just keeps on getting better and better.

We approach the immigration counter and Uncle Leo slows his pace to walk alongside me. He whispers into my ears, "Just keep quiet and let me do all the talking, alright?"

Puzzled, I raise my eyebrows but I just nod, still trying to make sense of the day's happenings to give Uncle Leo's request much thought.

As Uncle Leo sidles up to the counter to settle some travel clearances with the human attendant, I look around to bask in the surroundings of the spaceport. One thing that immediately stands out is the crowd. Back in New Madison, the majority of the populace is humans with the occasional turian and asari expatriates a common sight. But here in the spaceport, there are some aliens the likes of which I've never even seen before. I can see several of them rushing to and fro with a purpose, perhaps catching their next shuttle out of here towards some distant planets in the far corners of the galaxy; some others are just sitting down at the various cafes enjoying their exotic-looking meals; and a handful more just browsing through the souvenir stands and kiosks that are liberally scattered throughout the terminal building.

From what I gather during the conversations I've had with Uncle Leo, I know for sure that the slender, tall and amphibian-looking ones are called salarians while the heavy-set, brutish, reptilian-like creatures are the krogans. As for several others, I'm completely clueless at to what species they even are. Oh well, just another thing to find out during my travels abroad!

Uncle Leo thanks the attendant and gestures at me to follow him, which I promptly do so as to not lose him in the sea of alien and human faces.

"Once again, thank you for visiting New Madison and may we hope to see you again, Mr. Quinn! Have a safe trip and bon voyage!" The attendant behind us merrily calls out as we turn to leave.

I shoot a questioning glance in Uncle Leo's way. "Mr. Quinn? Last I checked, wasn't your name Leonus Daelon?"

The slight twitch of Uncle Leo's mandibles is enough for me to know that he's cooking up a lie even as we speak. "Well, uh, the shuttle we're taking is a friend of mine's and uh, it was registered under his name so–"

"Uncle Leo, save yourself the trouble. I know a fake ID when I see one," but I manage to cut Uncle Leo off before he's able to think of another alibi, "and as to why we're using them, I'm much too tired to even want an answer for it."

The turian is taken aback at first but he eventually breathes a sigh of relief and gives me an appreciative nod. Best to just go with whatever Uncle Leo has planned out for me.

"Since we've travelling light, I'd say we head on straight down to the hangar bay where I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, Nate," Uncle Leo speaks again with a hint of excitement in his voice.

I wonder what the surprise is this time. Here's to hoping it's actually something cool, which judging by the circumstances so far, is more than likely to be. I find my spirits lifting up a little.

We ascend a level of the terminal building and make our way through the crowds towards the hangar bays where the private starships are presumably housed. After undergoing a security check and noticing that Uncle Leo has somehow discarded his pistol along the way, we walk through another set of glass doors into the hangar bay sections of the spaceport. From our elevated positions on the glass-encased overhead walkway, I'm treated to a sight I've seen only in holovids.

_Holy shit_.

Rows after rows of starships of different makes and sizes are lined up neatly along the gargantuan length of the futuristic indoor hangar. And to think, we're actually going to be travelling across the galaxy on one of those vessels down there.

Sensing my awe, Uncle Leo stops in his tracks and leans back against the glass railings to allow myself the time to drink in the sights of the technological marvels before me. "Try and guess which one of those is ours, Nate."

"I…wow. Throughout all my years with you, Uncle Leo, why didn't you ever tell me that you owned a starship? Better yet, why didn't we ever get to ride one while we were moving all over the States all those years ago?"

"Well, technically, this ship isn't mine. It's a friend's. And, the ship's only to be used for emergencies. In any case, I'd say that this counts as an emergency."

I struggle to pull my eyes away from the unbelievable sight below me. Screw any misgivings I might have of this sudden interplanetary voyage and whoever it is that wants us dead. If it means I get to sit in one of those, then so be it! I can die a happy man. "Okay, I've had enough of looking. When can we actually get to sit in one?" The excitement and the suspense of sitting in one is already coursing through my every vein.

"I'd thought you'd never ask," Uncle Leo replies with a jolly laugh. "Come on, it's down this way. Hangar 12."

After what seems like walking for an eternity, the display sign of Hangar Bay 12 comes into view and in my haste, I rush straight for the elevator platform. Uncle Leo hurriedly clambers onto the platform, a bit winded in having to keep pace with me.

"You know, sometimes I forget that I'm getting a bit too old to be keeping up with your antics," the panting turian remarks.

"Oh yeah. Sorry about that, Uncle Leo," I reply sheepishly.

The elevator platform descends to bring us down to ground level and it is then I see for myself the imposing yet majestic figure of Uncle Leo's starship. Make no mistake, I've seen starships and vessels before on the extranet and holovids, but seeing an actual, full-scaled version of their video counterparts in person is another mind-blowing experience entirely.

Suspended off the ground by virtue of its gravitational generators with its massive, white-and-black-accentuated hull catching and reflecting the light in such a grand manner; the words 'Vanguard' proudly emblazoned on both of its wings; its sleek and sporty arrow-headed design; the starship is truly a beautiful and awe-inspiring sight.

"So, Nate, what do you think of it?" he gestures towards the vehicle for dramatic effect, "The Cord-Hislop Aerospace's Vanguard , one of the best human starships money can buy." Uncle Leo must have noticed my jaw-dropping expression. "Get used to it, this is going to be our new home for the time being."

Emerging from around the bow of the starship is another turian clothed in some sort of flight suit who beckons rather hurriedly to Uncle Leo. While Uncle Leo leaves my side to talk to the other turian, I absent-mindedly wander around the ship to reach out and touch its lustrous and well-polished hull. As I edge closer towards the bow of the ship, I overhear snippets of their conversation.

"…We're activating the contingency now. There's not much time left, they've found him." Uncle Leo whispers.

"Are you sure it's them? It could be others, for all we know. Sunderland did paint a pretty big target on his back with all that he's done." The turian who I assume must be Lyraxus replies.

"Regardless, we need to leave Earth now. It's not safe for us anymore, or you for that matter. I'm taking him to the Citadel to see Aurania and then we'll decide our next move from there."

There's a brief silence before Lyraxus speaks again, although with a tone of resignation in his voice.

"Alright then. I suggest that both of you leave now. The ship's all prepped and ready for departure on tarmac 5-A. Just in case, here's your gun that I smuggled through security. Let's just hope you don't have to use that thing."

I hear the exchange of something metallic between hands.

"Thanks, Lyraxus. I knew I could count on you."

"Hey, what are squadmates for? Oh, one more thing, Leonus. Do Aurania a favor and get the Vanguard to the Citadel in one piece. It breaks my heart to see several millions worth of credits burning up in an exploding wreck."

"Don't worry about it so much. At least the Ranger's still alive and kicking which by the way, is now all yours. It's parked just outside the departure hall building."

"Will keep that in mind. So, until we meet again my dear friend, promise me you'll stay safe."

"Likewise," and with that said, I hear the footsteps of Uncle Leo rounding the starship towards me. I realize I'm not supposed to be eavesdropping and as Uncle Leo comes back into view, I pretend to be very interested in a particular section of the ship's hull.

"So, what are we waiting for? Christmas?" he eyes me, hands busy fixing the pistol and its holster onto his waist.

"Uncle Leo, _puh-lease_. Christmas," I sweep my hands towards his starship, "just came early."

"Point taken. Alright, time to 'get this party started'!"

I bite back the urge to laugh. Instead, I make do with a face-palm. Wow, Uncle Leo sounds so _wrong_ when he tries to be hip like us. As in, hip like us human kids.

"What? Give your old uncle credit for trying to relate to you human kids." The turian looks at me all exasperatedly.

"Yeah, you might need to work on your swagger a bit more, Uncle Leo," I finally burst out laughing as I make my way to the vessel's port side to climb up the ramp leading to the ship's airlock.

Once both of us are inside, the ramp behind us retracts into the ship's hull and the airlock closes with a hiss of pneumatics.

"Go on ahead. Look around," Uncle Leo gives me an encouraging push on the shoulders, to which I immediately take off to explore the ship's interior, "and try not to touch any big red, ominous buttons or break anything!" The turian sighs, and turns to head into the cockpit. "Kids these days."

If it's any indication, the inside of the ship proves to be just as elegant and mind-blowing as its exterior, promising epic bouts of adventures without sacrificing the comforts of home. Furthermore, the luxury of the Vanguard's facilities and interior décor definitely goes without saying. It's like a friggin' 5 star hotel in here. From what I've seen, the Vanguard definitely merits its luxury-sports designation, much like several of the sports car on the streets back home. The cockpit is housed in the bow of the ship, while the four rooms of the sleeping quarters are housed in the stern, equally lined up on the bow and starboard sides. In the large space still left between the cockpit and sleeping quarters, are the unbelievably well-furnished living area (complete with a 42 inch holoscreen panel!), well-stocked kitchen and bathrooms.

After much button pushing, rifling through cupboards, gawking at foreign devices scattered all over the place, and just plain exploring the ship to my heart's content, I walk towards the cockpit with a skip in my steps. Seriously, I still feel as though I'm moving through a dream; a hazy, unbelievable experience compounded by the absurdity and the otherworldliness of my current situation. I enter the cockpit only to find Uncle Leo still fumbling about the various holographic control panels, clearly having no idea (or at least trying to remember, I hope) as to how to operate the starship.

"Uh, Uncle Leo, need some help?" I ask, clearly out of courtesy than actually having to offer my assistance because I have absolutely no idea whatsoever on the flying of starships. I'm more of a video game kinda person, not a starship enthusiast.

"No, no need. Just give me a minute. It's been years since I last flew one of these things. I just need time to figure this ship out." Uncle Leo's talons fly deftly across the control panels and bring up interfaces after interfaces. "Aha! Got it! Now to just enable the primary core engines," his talons key in several commands, "start up the FTL drives and mass effect generators and," a reaffirming 'ping' chimes with several display panels flashing green, "There we go!"

"So, how much longer before we take off?" I look over his shoulders at the interfaces and then out the large windows which practically make up the ceiling of the cockpit to see the hangar bay doors opening.

"In less than a minute or two. Come on Nate, have a seat," the turian pats the empty co-pilot seat next to him, "You wouldn't want to miss this for the world."

I gladly oblige and I make myself comfortable in the plush leather seat. Out the windows, the hangar bay doors open entirely to reveal the runway and the endless unknowns waiting beyond the fringes of the night sky.

"I know our departure's kind of rushed but, any last words to say before leaving Earth, Nate?"

"Not much, but would 'Here's to 18 good years of calling you home' do it any justice?"

"Close enough." The turian smirks rather amusedly.

"Well then, that's it, I guess." I settle back into my seat, staring ahead at the black expanse of sky. "Wow, this is really kind of a big deal, isn't it? Leaving Earth and what I've come to call home for the past 18 years now."

"It sure is." Sensing the solemnity in my voice, Uncle Leo's quick to add, "Don't worry about it. We'll be back here soon enough. You'll always have a home to come back to."

"Good to know." I break into a small smile, the feeling of euphoria that buoyed me before now giving way to exhaustion and fatigue.

With a low hum of its thrusters, the Vanguard powers up and taxis its way out of the hangar. Once positioned on the runway, Uncle Leo inputs a series more of commands and I can feel the primary drive cores kicking in. Having reached the apex of its power-up sequence, the starship hurtles forward with a powerful blast of the thrusters and ascends through the night sky. With the inertia dampeners taking effect immediately after takeoff, there's a disconcerting yet slight lurch in my stomach as I stare out the window at the rapidly-shrinking halo of light on the ground that is Verona Spaceport. _This is it, we're finally leaving Earth._

We climb further upwards through the stratospheres at great speeds and before realizing it, the dull and flat black of the night sky eventually coalesces into the lustrous, star-filled, infinite black expanse of outer space. I straighten upright in my seat to get a better look out the cockpit's window.

"Hold on, Nate. I've something to show you before we leave." The turian proceeds to slow the starship down and bank it around.

Emerging from the corner of the window, the view of Earth in all its garden world splendor and resplendence fills the entirety of my vision. The sight of it literally overwhelms me.

"Beautiful, isn't she? And to think, I wouldn't have spent the past 18 years with you on any other planet, Nate." Uncle Leo turns to me before falling silent so that we may both bask in the moment.

"Yeah, it really is. And I wouldn't have either, Uncle Leo." I answer, tears already tugging at the edges of my eyelids.

"Just one more thing before we both call it a night. Do you know what a mass relay is, Nate?" Uncle Leo asks as he directs the starship away from Earth and sets it cruising along on another trajectory. From the window, I see that the ship's hull is slowly being enveloped in a rippling blue hue.

"Uh, some sort of technology that allows for travel from one part of the galaxy to another? At least, that's what I think it's for."

"Well, you're about to see one firsthand. Promise me; try not to get too impressed. Or you'd be dropping your jaw at everything else you see in the galaxy." He chuckles lightly.

We sit in silence in the cockpit for what seems like several minutes. As the novelty of being in outer space for the first time wears off, the events of today catch up to me in the familiar pangs of fatigue and hunger. I just realized that apart from the insufficient sleep I had the previous night, I've not had dinner yet. _Damn, I wonder if there's any food in the kitchen? Maybe later though, these seats are much too comfortable to get up from._ The rippling blue of the ship's hull coupled with the serenity of space makes for a lulling effect and I find it harder and harder to keep my eyes open.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I know, Uncle Leo is shaking me awake and rambling on excitedly about something unintelligible as I struggle to shake off the haze of sleep. What I see next when I blearily peer out the cockpit window brings my surroundings to full awareness. I swear to God, I don't know how much more of these sights my eyes stand to see. First the spaceport, the starship, an orbital view of Earth and now _this._ The awesomeness of it all will turn me blind one day.

Up ahead and majestically orbiting Pluto, is what I assume must be a mass relay.

"In case you're wondering, that's the Charon Relay. Pretty impressive, isn't it?" Uncle Leo points out.

I'm at a loss for words, settling for the familiar jaw-dropping, awestruck expression. That thing is _huge_, even more so as the ship approaches the relay. Who the hell could be capable of building such a thing? I'll bet not even the most technologically advanced species in the whole of galactic space could build one of those.

"Too bad the Protheans aren't around anymore. We could have learnt so much from them..." Uncle Leo mutters rather absent mindedly as he proceeds to key in several commands into the console.

I turn my attention back to the mass relay as we approach the revolving rings in the center where a blinding blue light emanates from within.

"Nate, ready to sit back and enjoy your first mass relay jump?"

"Huh, wha– WOAH!"

At the same time, arcs of lightning leap off the glowing blue core of the mass relay onto the ship and with an increasing hum of the ship's mass effect generators, I'm cut off as the Vanguard rockets forward along a corridor of mass-free space to some distant part of the galaxy, effectively plunging me into the unknown.

Despite it all, I'm loving every single moment of it. What a day.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Hooray for Nate and his first ever intergalactic voyage! I know the starship's not Normandy material but hey, it's good enough to get from point A to point B in the Milky Way galaxy. As to whatever awaits him out there, stay tuned to find out! **

**Lastly, before I end this, I just want to say thanks to all the readers who've stuck with this fanfic so far. You guys are the best! =) **


	6. Why, Hello There!

**Author's Notes: OH HEY YO. I'M FINALLY FREEEEEE! Ehem, I know I usually update this fanfic of mine on a Fridays, but since I'm officially done and over with finals, and probably a little drunk to boot from post-finals festivities, I decided to give you guys a treat by updating this a day early. Just so that I can celebrate with you guys too! **

**Well, I don't want to let my ramblings get in the way so I'll just stop for now. Without further ado, I present to you chapter five of Mass Effect: Remnants~**

**I do not own Mass Effect, for this god-awesome series is solely the property of Bioware.**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 5 - Why, Hello There!

…_Nate…_

I hear something like a disembodied voice, far off and distant. I dismiss it and get back to the matter at hand. We're sitting at a quaint, little rooftop café that overlooks the city blocks of New Madison and Lake Mendota whose surface reflects the setting sun. I couldn't have asked for a more picturesque view to complement a moment like this.

Nothing's gonna ruin this date with Ranae, not if I can help it. After weeks of awkward meetings in the hallways and me fumbling over the right words to say to her, Ranae and I can finally talk to each other in private at last. And the date's going better than expected. We caught a nice movie, had a lovely stroll around Lake Mendota and now we're here in this rooftop restaurant because she's treating us both to dinner. Look, she's even laughing at all the lame jokes I'm making. Damn it, there's that flanging voice again.

_Nate...…you sleepyhead, wake up...…The whole universe isn't going to wait for you... I hope I don't have to resort to this_…...

I shrug it off again, eyes solely concentrating on the beautiful asari maiden in front of me. Her lips move as she says something to me, but all I can concentrate on are the features of her angelic face. Hard to believe I'm finally going out on a date with her. I mean, I'm not against interspecies relationships like some of my other human peers, given my upbringing with Uncle Leo, but this just seems too surreal. A super hot asari and an everyday, normal kid hooking up, what are the odds? Wait a minute, is she leaning in for a kiss? Oh lordy, this isn't a dream, right? Please let it not be a dream. But screw it, I'm only going to get one shot at this, so I might as well take it. So I start to lean forward as well to meet those lips of hers….

_**KER-PLANG!**_

"What? What? I'm up! I'm up – ouch, gawddammit!"

I shoot upright from bed and my face smacks right into the bottom of a stainless steel pot held by none other than Uncle Leo who's now standing over the edge of my bed.

"Spirits! You okay, Nate? I wasn't expecting you to get up that fast," the turian drops the pots he's holding onto the bed and inspects my slightly bruised face. He breathes a sigh of relief "Whew, no harm done, Nate. It's just a slight swelling and I think it should go away in a day or two."

I gingerly massage the bruise on my forehead to ease away the pain. "What the heck were you doing with those pans and pots anyways?"

"Well then, I should make a mental note to myself. Never imitate everything you see in those comedy vids you humans always love watching."

"Wait, so you banged those pots together to get me awake? Gee, Uncle Leo, couldn't you just try waking me up the normal way?" I groan.

"In my defense, knowing what a deep sleeper you are, it seemed like the perfect way to get you up. Also, I must admit, you humans do make it kind of funny in those vids."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just don't do it again, alright?" I swing my feet over the side of the bed and get up. "So, why'd you want me up? Wait, is it even morning yet? Which leads me to another question; in space, how _do_ you tell whether if it's morning or night?"

"You've been asleep for several hours now and seeing as we'd left Earth at night, Human Coordinated Universal Time dictates that it should be morning according to Earth hours. Besides, it doesn't matter what time it is in space, the time only matters when you step foot on a spacestation."

Uncle Leo exits my bedroom and I follow after him. Still groggy and reeling from that blow to the face, it takes me a bit of effort to walk in a straight line. Uncle Leo gestures to the table where breakfast is already served. "You'd want to grab some toast and a cup of juice. You can eat it in the cockpit because there's something you'd definitely want to see."

I stumble to the table where the smell of freshly made toast and bacon wafts alluringly. Damn, Uncle Leo can sure cook. I grab 2 pieces of toast; throw several strips of bacon in between the bread and down a tall glass of orange juice. Bacon sandwich in hand, I head into the cockpit and plop myself down in the co-pilot's seat. Uncle Leo's already happily munching his own bacon sandwich away one-handed while the other free hand flies across the ship's controls.

"There, up ahead. Do you see it, Nate?" Uncle Leo manages to get out in between mouthfuls of toast.

I take a bite out of my own sandwich and strain my eyes to see beyond the pink nebula of space dust and gases that now shrouds the cockpit windows. Where exactly are we, anyway?

"What exactly am I supposed to be looking out for? I don't see anything, Uncle Leo."

"Look harder," he takes another big bite of his sandwich and adds, "And spirits, is this bacon sandwich to die for!"

I scan my eyes on the view ahead; sifting through the pink fog to spot whatever it is that Uncle Leo has seen. At first, it was no more than a faint outline of some structure peeking out through the mist but as the Vanguard emerges from the nebulae, the mist parts to reveal a truly breathtaking sight.

The whole superstructure looks like one big giant flower, with each and every one of its five 'petals' or 'arms' or whatever you call it extending outwards the lengths of what must be several kilometers! As we approach, I can make out vast grids of light emanating from each of those arms. Holy crap, are those buildings? If they are, there must be thousands of them down there!

Again, I'm left open-mouthed and speechless. What the hell is wrong with the galaxy and its desire to bombard my eyes with so much awesome at every single turn?

"Here we are, Nate, our very first stop. Welcome to the Citadel, the nexus of the galactic community," Uncle Leo softly proclaims.

"My god. What in the world is that thing? A space station? I've never seen anything like it!"

"Yep, you could technically call it that and it's quite possibly the largest one in existence throughout the whole galaxy."

We fly right into the heart of the Citadel, heading towards the ring-shaped structure in the centre that connects all of its five 'arms'. We soon join the flow of other starships and vessels heading towards the Citadel and I take the opportunity to peer out the windows. Wow, those really are skyscrapers down there and damn, are they packed together like sardines! Seeing the density of the buildings' layout, who knows just how many people are living on this space station.

"You'd better shower and get changed, Nate. Once we've docked, we're going to do a little _sight-seeing_," Uncle Leo gives me a smirk and finishes off the last of his sandwich.

"What clothes? These are the only ones that I have on me." I gesture to my creased T-shirt and jeans that I've worn since the previous night from New Madison.

"Oh, have you tried looking through the wardrobe in your room yet? I'll bet there're several shirts in your size. I took the liberty of picking them out myself." Uncle Leo replies, apparently impressed with the fact that he's managed to shop for my clothes all by himself.

_Oh lordy_. With Uncle Leo's grasp of human fashion in mind, I bolt off to the bedroom hoping desperately to at least find a decent set of clothes to wear.

* * *

Oh, keelah! Five more minutes till the freighter takes off and I'm still a good block away from the departure platform. Nazreil'Vaan nar Atwell, you have officially got to be the galaxy's biggest bosh'tet yet. The most important part of your Pilgrimage and you pick the best of times to jeopardize it. Not that any of it's my fault in the first place; stupid Citadel traffic and these stupid crates of weapon mods that I'm carrying around.

Sure, leave everything to me, I say! I'm a good courier and I'll make sure the goods are delivered on time! And of course the supplier didn't mention the unbearably long commute time from the 410 Wards to the commercial spaceport because _every_ quarian's supposed to know the Citadel's public transport network from the inside out. No time, there's no time left! Better hurry, I'd better hurry!

"Excuse me, coming through! Pardon me, make way!" I yell, barely able to see the path and people ahead above the stacks of boxes that I'm carrying.

As I dash down the tree-lined boulevard while precariously balancing my cargo, the familiar façade of the commercial spaceport finally comes into view, together with the milling crowds in front of its entrance.

"Keelah. Just what I needed."

I pause to catch my breath, my laborious gasps for air making for raspy pants through my voice modulator. How I hate living in this suit sometimes, confined to breathing through the onboard air filtration systems. It feels just so oppressive and confined at times.

Having rested just enough for the ache in my legs (and my lungs) to subside, I pick up the boxes and resume my mad dash for the space station. Navigating through the crowds wasn't easy and I think I might have just earned several death wishes with the krogans that I had to elbow aside but I at least make it with moments to spare. The commercial spaceport is a flurry of activity and I take a glance upwards through the transparent glass roofs to try and spot the merchant freighter I'm supposed to be leaving on.

It doesn't take long for me to find it. Thankfully, the MSV Caldwella is still docked at platform AE-130. As I move forward along the length of the spaceport, I notice that the docking bridge and gravitational tethers have already been disconnected, which means that the freighter is going to be taking off soon. Before I realize it, I'm already in an all-out sprint for the platform.

"Hold that ship! There's still one more passenger making it aboard!" I call out, even though my voice is drowned out by the din of the spaceport.

My lungs feel as though they're on fire, the pain of which is not unlike that time when I accidentally shot myself in the foot. But that's irrelevant now because the ship that would take me to my prospective employer is departing right in front of me and the fact that I've spent all of my remaining credits for a seat on that merchant vessel only added to the urgent need to be on board.

The Caldwella starts to slowly taxi out of its docking bay and my heart drops. Nevertheless, I will my feet to pump faster towards platform AE-130's elevator, with my eyes still firmly fixed skywards on the merchant vessel, as if staring at it long enough would prolong its taking off sequence.

Unfortunately, at that very moment I learn that we quarians (despite all the optical interfaces and aids that our envirosuits granted us) have only a singular field of vision. Having not paid attention to what's in front of me, I collide into someone or something solid and I know at that particular instance, I'm somehow in one big heap of trouble.

* * *

Verona Interplanetary Spaceport doesn't hold a candle to the environs of the Citadel's Commercial Spaceport that I now find myself in. Sure, I thought the spaceport back in New Madison was brimming with activity at first, but being here in a spaceport on an intergalactic scale changes things entirely. First off, the design of the spaceport is absolutely mind-boggling and gravity-defying! Instead of a linear structural plane, the lengths of the spaceport in either direction actually curve upward to form part of a circle's circumference. Built into that circumference are the numerous docking bays and hangars in which the countless starships that come and go are housed in.

Oh and also, not forgetting the general ambience of my surroundings. To put in short, I'm literally drowned in a neon-filled paradise, courtesy of the insane amounts of colorful holographic panels and displays of shops that line the entire length of the spaceport. Yet, unlike other similarly neon-clad cities of Earth like Japan, there is a certain air of otherworldly grandeur and elegance to it all, perhaps attributed in part due to the exotic fashionwear of the various species of aliens that I've never even laid eyes on before. And speaking of fashion;

"Uncle Leo, are you sure that this is the latest in intergalactic human apparel?" I tug at the weirdly-designed, white and black casual dress shirt that I have on, together with matching pants.

"Why, of course it is! I've been following up on human trends too, you know." Uncle Leo responds while his eyes roam all over the spaceport, apparently just as awestruck as I am.

We casually walk along the spaceport, in no rush whatsoever to get down to the Wards, as Uncle Leo calls it, for some window-shopping and much anticipated sightseeing.

"So, is this your first time here or – uh, Uncle Leo," I tug at his sleeves after noticing that someone carrying an armful of boxes is barreling down the path towards us at breakneck speed. "I think we'd better get out of the way of that guy heading right for us."

"Huh, did you say something, Nate?" He's still oblivious as to the figure running towards us.

"Uncle Leo, get out of the way _now_!" I take a step back and hope that the turian will do the same.

"What –"

Too late. He turns away from me, eyes widening as he takes notice of the person I was warning him about earlier. The imminent head-on collision sends both of them sprawling onto the ground, with the miscellaneous contents of the boxes flying all over the place.

I immediately rush on over to Uncle Leo's side, helping the poor turian up. Funny thing, for someone who's able to perform death-defying maneuvers in a skycar, he sure is clumsy on his feet.

"You okay, Uncle Leo? Damn, that was quite a fall you took."

"Yeah, yeah. I think I'm okay. A bit winded but I'm alright. What about that quarian?" He gets up onto his feet a little wobbly, but thankfully Uncle Leo's no worse for wear.

"Quarian? Oh, you mean the guy who knocked into you?" I move towards this 'quarian' fellow and find him (or her or it?) buried in the pile of boxes he's previously carrying, his three-fingered hand sticking out and flailing about. I reach for it and cautiously pull him up. "Hey, dude. Are you alright?" Pulling the quarian upright, I get a good look at 'his' figure (the general physiology _does _point more towards that of a male's). He's clad in a green suit of some sort with a cream-white shawl draped over it. Furthermore, the tool belt attached around his waist hints at him being a mechanic or someone skilled with machineries.

The quarian dusts himself off and looks at me for a split second before lowering his head to avoid my gaze. I hear him muttering something under his breath but it's all gibberish to me. I don't suppose he speaks human English like Uncle Leo, does he now?

"Uh, well, if you understand me," I enunciate each word slowly in hopes he can understand the gist of what I'm saying, "I just want to make sure that you're okay. Need help with your things?" I gesture towards the boxes and their contents which are strewn around. The quarian gets it and just wordlessly nods.

While I crouch over to pick up the items, Uncle Leo comes over to our side and I could swear I hear the quarian whimper a little. He opens up his omni-tool and taps several buttons on its display. After that, in no more than a scared and stuttering manner, he speaks albeit with an unnatural and artificial tone to his voice.

"I'm so, so sorry for this whole incident. It's my fault entirely; I should have looked as to where I was going. Oh keelah, please forgive me, I hope I didn't hurt any one of you." Clearly he's already shaken up by the whole incident.

"It's okay, uh….." Uncle Leo smiles reassuringly at the poor quarian.

"Nazreil. Nazreil'Vaan nar Atwell, and um…I'm a quarian on my Pilgrimage."

"Well Nazreil, there's no harm done so it's okay, you have nothing to be afraid of." Nazreil doesn't say a word, to which Uncle Leo adds, "Look, I'm not mad at you or anything. In any case, it's also my fault; I should have paid better attention to where I was going."

"Oh, that's…good," Nazreil breathes an audible sigh of relief.

"So you say you're on your Pilgrimage, right? Where are you headed to in such a rush?" Uncle Leo joins us in collecting the parts and components that are now littered all over the floor.

At this, the quarian stiffens and looks overhead at a large merchant freighter departing the spaceport and flying off into the distance. Was he planning to leave on that ship? That opaque green visor of his really makes it hard to discern his facial expressions. Well, if he was, then damn, must it suck to be him right now.

"Do you see that freighter over there, the MSV Caldwella? I was supposed to be leaving the Citadel on it for a courier job in Devlon Industries over in Bekenstein. But it looks like that's not happening." Dejection and sorrow colors his voice, and it sounds as though he's on the verge on breaking into tears.

"Devlon Industries? I guess that explains all these weapon mods you're carrying around."

I pause shortly in my task and scrutinize the components in my hands. I'm actually holding parts of a gun right now? As in, weapon mods and attachments like that of the guns in the best-selling video game series Code of Honor? _Suh-weet_. However, Nazreil's restrained sobs immediately stop my musings in its tracks and I realize just how selfish I am for thinking such thoughts when there are more pressing matters at hand.

"But they're useless now. I doubt if I can even sell them off to get the credits I need for another ticket to Bekenstein in time. Besides, I bet the corporation's going to hire somebody else anyways." Nazreil mutters glumly and resumes collecting the weapon mods off the ground, all the while trying his best to stifle his sobs.

"Oh spirits. Look, Nazreil, I really didn't mean to ruin your Pilgrimage like this. I'm terribly sorry for it, so let me try to at least make it up to you. How about I get you another ticket on a shuttle headed straight for Bekenstein?" Uncle Leo says to him apologetically.

"I appreciate the thought but it's no use. My contract states that I need to have this cache of weapon mods delivered to the captain of the Caldwella and that I need to at least serve onboard the freighter as part of my evaluation for the job. Seeing as the contract's already voided, there's no purpose in getting to Bekenstein. There won't be any job left for me," the quarian manages to get out in between bouts of tearful sobbing.

"Alright then, uhh…what say we head on to wherever you're staying at the moment and we'll contact Devlon Industries to try to sort this whole misunderstanding out?"

"That's the thing; I've previously been staying at a HabCapsule Centre for the time I've been on the Citadel. Since I've used whatever credits I had left to purchase a spot on the Caldwella, I don't think I have a place left to go back to."

Guilt-ridden, Uncle Leo turns to look at me, his exasperated face pleading for some ideas as to how to help Nazreil out. I'm equally as clueless as Uncle Leo is and I can only give him a bewildered shrug in return. "Well, I truly am sorry about this but I don't think there's anything more that I can do to help."

"I guess I could try some of the turian shelters in the Shin Akiba Wards and hope they'll take me in for the night," Nazreil dejectedly seals each of the boxes shut and prepares to head back the way he came.

I give the turian a sharp nudge and hiss under my breath, "Uncle Leo! Come on, you heard him! He's got nowhere to go! Can't you at least offer him a place to stay on board the ship?"

He turns to Nazreil to make sure he's out of earshot. "Nate, it's complicated. He's a quarian and they're not exactly the sort of people in the galaxy that you want to have around your credit chits. They have…a less than savory reputation around here."

I'm slightly caught off guard at this revelation. To think that that poor quarian could turn out to be a petty criminal? But still, it isn't right to just leave him hanging like this. "Come on, Uncle Leo, just look at him. I don't think he's going to rob us blind or anything like that. He doesn't seem the kind. He's even got himself a decent job lined up _until _you screwed him over."

"Fine, you make a good point," Uncle Leo rubs his forehead while he ponders upon his dilemma and finally lets out a sigh. "Okay, Nazreil, I have a better idea. What about you stay with us in the meantime while you sort things out with Devlon Industries? We've got a starship that can comfortably accommodate another passenger and it would kill me if I didn't make it up to you somehow for interrupting your Pilgrimage."

Wait, what? But Nazreil turns slowly on his feet to face Uncle Leo. Judging by his body posture and his sobs that seem to be stopping, I can only guess that it's for the best. I catch myself in time from voicing out my surprise and instead, give Nazreil a warm smile.

"Wait, are you being serious? This isn't all some hoax to scam me of all my credits would you because like I already told you, I don't have any credits left, so you can just forget about it."

Uncle Leo is taken aback. "No, no, we're not conmen or anything like that. We're just….tourists dropping by the Citadel to take in the sights and sounds. And please, I'm being totally serious about my offer. I would feel so guilty for having disrupted your Pilgrimage and then not making up for it. I know just how important these things are to you quarians."

"You do? Not many people know about the significance of our Pilgrimages. To them, we're just treated as burdensome vagrants. But you would truly lend me a place to stay for the night? Really? I mean, you really don't have to. I don't want to be a bother to anyone," the quarian stammers, "And besides, I don't have anything to repay you with. It'd be unfair and selfish of me."

"By all means, you're more than welcomed to stay with us, no payments necessary. It's bad enough that I interrupt your Pilgrimage and you still want _me_ to charge you for it? Come on, Nate here," Uncle Leo gestures to me and I wave rather awkwardly to Nazreil, "would appreciate the company. Wouldn't you, Nate?"

"Oh, of course I would! Glad to finally have someone my age to talk to, I guess," I reply, still smiling. Woah, this is all so sudden. My first ever intergalactic voyage and I've already gotten myself an alien bunkmate.

"Oh keelah, you have no idea how much this truly means to me! I can't even bear the thought of living in one of those rowdy shelters. You have my sincerest of gratitude and I thank you so much, Mr...?" Nazreil exclaims and strides towards us with a skip in his steps.

"Leonus Daelon. But you can just call me Mr. Leo. I'm not particularly fond of formalities." Uncle Leo extends a welcoming hand to which Nazreil more than gladly takes. "Welcome aboard, Nazreil'Vaan nar Atwell. How about you put your stuff down in the ship first?"

I step forward to shake Nazreil's hand as well. "Nice to meet you, Nazreil. I'm Nathaniel Sunderland, but call me Nate. It's not so much a mouthful that way." And wow, did the texture of those gloved, three-fingered hands leave goosebumps crawling up my spine. Guess I'll have to get used to it. "We're docked on platform ET-781 by the way. Oh, and do you need help carrying those boxes to the ship? It's quite a long ways off and they look heavy."

"Oh, there's really no need to trouble yourself. We quarians are stronger than we actually look," Nazreil scoops up the stack of boxes in his hands with great effort before wobbling slightly on his feet.

"Yeah right. You've had a rough day and the least I can do to help apologize on my Uncle Leo's behalf is to carry some of those boxes for you."

"Thank you very much then, Nate – if I'm not mistaken?" Nazreil responds rather softly, back somewhat to his old, shy self.

"Yeah, you got it right. Come on, I think you might wanna see your temporary home for the next few days. You're gonna _love_ it." I flash another smile to which Nazreil embarrassedly turns his gaze away from me again. For one, I never expected aliens to be this shy but Nazreil makes it so heartwarmingly cute.

After what seems like several minutes of walking through the hectic spaceport, with me trying my best to make small talk with the quiet quarian, we arrive at our designated platform; a relatively small docking bay which overlooks the entire length of one of the Citadel's arms. I hear an audible 'thud' and turn to my left to see Nazreil dropping the boxes yet again, admiring the sheer beauty of the Vanguard that's gravitationally tethered to the bay.

"Why do you teenagers, regardless of your species, react this way every single time you see this ship?" Uncle Leo whispers exasperatedly into my ear.

"Because the ship looks just so damn awesome?" I whisper back.

"Still, it's just a ship, only a nicer looking one at that." Uncle Leo steps towards the platform's control panel and disengages the safety lock before bringing up the docking bridge to connect the platform to the Vanguard's airlock.

Nazreil's still not out of it as he stands there, gawking (I'm definitely sure that's what he's doing) at the sheer awesomeness of the Vanguard behind that visor of his. The faint outlines of his eyes scan the length of the ship over and over, most definitely still trying to process his unbelievably good luck of ending up in one of the galaxy's finest starships.

"Yo, Nazreil? You still with us?" I gently nudge his shoulders to which he startles out of his reverie.

"Oh – oh yes. Sorry for my behavior. I've just never actually been aboard anything this luxurious throughout my whole life. We couldn't exactly afford luxury back on the Flotilla."

"The Flotilla? Is that where you're from or something?"

"Um, the Flotilla's a huge fleet of starships and what we quarians consider our home. We don't exactly have a world –" Nazreil begins but is interrupted by Uncle Leo beckoning us into the Vanguard.

"Hurry up, Nate! Get Nazreil and his things settled down as soon as possible because he's got business to attend to."

"Sure thing, Uncle Leo!" I jovially usher Nazreil into the Vanguard. "We'll talk later once you've settled your errands, okay? And, all the best with working things out with Devlon Industries."

Nazreil is silent for a moment before he speaks up, this time with slightly more cheer in his tone, "I would like that, and….thanks for the wishes."

"You're more than welcome. So, shall I give you a tour of the Vanguard? Feel free to pick out any room of your choice except, well, mine and Uncle Leo's of course."

Uncle Leo stops me in my tracks for a bit, allowing Nazreil to walk on ahead. "Do me a favor and keep an eye out on him, will you? Also, lock up most of the compartments except for those in the kitchen."

I roll my eyes a little at his paranoia but I give in to his request. "Alright, Uncle Leo, I'll remember to do just that."

We both carry our respective stacks of boxes into the starship while Uncle Leo watches on in amusement from where he's leaning on the side of the airlock. "Congratulations Leonus Daelon, you'd make a _great_ babysitter."

Upon settling Nazreil and his things down in a room directly adjacent to mine, Uncle Leo then gives him a quick tour of the Vanguard and makes clear to him the rules and regulations to be obeyed when within the starship. After that, we exit the starship and before going our separate ways for the day, Uncle Leo gives to Nazreil (after much persuasion on my part) the access code to unlock the vessel's airlock so that Nazreil may freely come and go as he pleases.

Having bid good luck to Nazreil at the platform, we part ways with Nazreil heading down to the 410 Wards while Uncle Leo and I make our way towards the area of the Citadel known as the Presidium. As promised by Uncle Leo, it's time to get in some sight-seeing at last and according to him, the Presidium's the perfect place to start! As to how true his claims are, I'm going to find out soon enough as we take the shuttle from the commercial spaceport to another part of the Citadel's central torus that houses the Presidium.

If only I knew that today's rollercoaster whirl of events were any indicator of the things to come, I probably wouldn't be as happy or excited as I currently am. Regardless, I'll only manage to live life once and boy, am I going to live it to the fullest!

Look out Milky Way and its denizens, because here I come!

* * *

**Author's Notes: One of the beloved and key aspect of the Mass Effect series has always been the diverse cast of characters that make up your party. So I've decided to translate that facet of the games into this story of mine, which I hope I did it justice. Rest assured, Nazreil won't be the only one joining the crew of the Vanguard as the series progresses, so there's something to look forward to. =)**

**As usual, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and stay tuned for more of Nate escapades as a first-time tourist in the Citadel. This is me signing off!**


	7. Citadel Escapades

**Author's Notes: Hey there guys! Thanks for still sticking with me and this fanfic of mine; it really makes the fanfic worth writing for you guys and that means a lot to me! So, where we last left off, we had a new addition to the crew of the Vanguard and Nate finally finds himself setting foot upon the Citadel! **

**This chapter here has really been a blast to write because I come from a rather small town. So when I moved to the capital city for college, the wonders of seeing all those towering skyscrapers and the modern infrastructure in the city was just mind-blowing. Likewise with Nate here on the Citadel, I tried to capture that very same feeling of wonder I had when I first got to the capital. Also, in keeping with my original intent to further flesh out the ME universe, this is my take on what life would be like on the Citadel, both on the Presidium and in the Wards.**

**I guess my ramblings have gone on far enough, so without further ado, I present to you the next installment in Mass Effect: Remnants! Enjoy! **

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 6 - Citadel Escapades

In a grim and dimly-lit room, a lone figure lies slumped in a chair, bloodied and battered. A human man garbed completely in black makes his presence known as he steps into the pool of light given off by an overhead lamp that serves more to highlight the prisoner's predicament, rather than illuminate the room itself. Upon closer inspection, the figure shackled onto the chair proves to be a turian, clearly having been subjected to various forms of torture as the numerous cuts, scrapes and bruises on his half-naked body can attest to.

The man in black removes his sunglasses and stows it away in his coat pocket before making direct eye contact with the turian struggling against his shackles. "Well, Mr. Lyraxus, we can keep this up all day now. I assure you, my associates won't grow tired of this anytime soon."

"Go to hell. I haven't told you anything this far and I won't be telling you anything now. So don't bother wasting your time," Lyraxus manages to retort despite having both mandibles broken off of his jaw.

"We've tried to be diplomatic when we first caught up to you at Verona Spaceport but that didn't work out too well for four of our men; in which one of them is still recovering in intensive care as we speak," the man circles around Lyraxus, his fingers tracing the outline of the headrest. "And clearly, I've underestimated the training that the Turian Hierarchy gives its soldiers."

This earns a bitter chuckle from Lyraxus. "Get me out of these cuffs and I'll show you humans what else the Hierarchy trains us for."

"Unfortunately Mr. Lyraxus, I'm not here looking for some witty banter. I'm here to propose a final preposition for you, which given the current situation you're in, you'd be wise to accept."

"Make all the compromises and empty promises you want, but you're not getting the human kid."

The man immediately grips the turian's jaw and forces Lyraxus to look straight at him. "You see, this is the part I don't understand, so enlighten me. Why would you, a turian, risk your life for someone not even of your own species? Furthermore, why even go to all this effort of hiding him right under our noses for all these years?" He tightens his grip and Lyraxus grunts in pain. "All we want is to just bring him into our custody in order to keep him safe from whatever dangers that may be out there in the galaxy and study him for the advancement of humankind. It's a win-win situation."

"Knowing your history with Sunderland, I doubt that's the least of what you'll be doing to the poor kid."

"But he's literally just brimming with unraveled secrets of the galaxy that so many would die for. Wouldn't it be selfish that this knowledge go unshared with the galactic community?" The man speaks with such fervor and intensity that visibly unsettles Lyraxus.

"And what difference would it make if you manage to get a hold of him? You'd probably do the same and keep it all for yourselves."

"Look now, my patience is really wearing thin and I'll ask one last time, Mr. Lyraxus. Where is Leonus Daelon and the human child?"

"If you start combing the galaxy for them now, it'll only take you a lifespan or two to locate them. So I say you better get to it," Lyraxus grins with smug satisfaction.

The man's eyes teeter precariously close on the brink of losing his temper but surprisingly, he relinquishes his grip on the turian's jaw. Lyraxus desperately gasps for air in an effort to quell the burning pain on his face. The man straightens his suit and puts his sunglasses back on.

"We could have done it the easy way, but you just had to refuse cooperation," he turns his back to Lyraxus. "Fine then, have it your way. I'm sure that you won't be smiling as much after the next round of interrogations."

"I gladly look forward to it."

The man exits the darkened room and emerges in a separate room; a command center of sorts, judging by the looks of it. Numbers, data and map coordinates run through numerous terminal displays that are projected throughout the four corners of the large, utilitarian room. Personnel sit at their terminals tapping furiously away at the keys, while eyes intently scan the ever-changing figures on their respective screens. The room is a constant flurry of activity as its occupants sifts through a prodigious network of information to locate their objective.

_A room full of the best intelligence officers that humanity has to offer and our targets have been right under our noses all this time. What a disgrace. _The man in black stands at the back of the room, overlooking his personnel with a sense of regal authority before one of them approaches him, datapad in hand.

"Mr. Wilkins, sir. With what we've gathered from the flight logs so far, our captive is last reported preparing a starship for departure at Verona Interplanetary Spaceport."

Wilkins peers intently into the image now displayed on the datapad, a malevolent glint of hope evident in his eyes. "Go on."

"It seems that the vessel is a Cord-Hislop Vanguard Mark III with a serial registration number that belongs to a fabricated alias. They were very thorough with masking their tracks."

"I would expect them to be. They _have _been evading us for a good 13 years now."

"Nevertheless, we've managed to dig through the records of transaction and trace it to an asari named Aurania Talliscon who lives on the Citadel. More specifically, Unit 62B of the Presidium's Valleon Complexes."

Immediately, Wilkins sets off with a purpose in his steps, his black trench coat billowing in his wake. "Inform the squad to move out with me ASAP. I'm not losing this lead."

"Yes sir. But what about the turian in custody?"

Wilkins halts in his steps and glances remorselessly over his shoulder.

"Kill him."

* * *

That's it, no more. No more walking for me. God, I can't even remember the last time I've walked this much. But the fact remains that Uncle Leo and I have only walked the whole of the Presidium the day before. Oh, and thank God for the Rapid Transits in helping us get around too. Nevertheless, there are still the ward arms which we have yet to visit; all five of them to be exact. Oh, crap.

Speaking of the Presidium however, I have to admit that the place was truly a breathtaking sight to visit. On one hand, it's as verdant and lush like back home in New Madison, boasting a huge lake that snakes through the center of the Presidium's entire length while aptly-placed canopies of green trees and vegetation were dotted all across the place. Despite it being a spacestation, there were friggin' clouds in the artificial 'sky', complete with the warm rays of sunlight and gentle breezes. On the other, buildings that housed residential units, stores, embassies and offices were built into the curving walls of the Presidium in a feat of pure technological marvel. The surrealism of the whole place immediately brought to mind images of New York City's Central Park back home on Earth; a vestige of natural wonder blossoming in the middle of a metropolis.

Uncle Leo made mention of the Citadel's own social strata during our tour of the place and how the Presidium was home to galaxy's most elite and influential individuals, not to mention the most affluent as well. With the air of dignity and prestige that some of them carried themselves around with (and also with the way they flaunted their crazy-ass designer fashionwear), I'd gathered as much. In line with these high social standings, the infrastructures and facilities on the Presidium also catered to the elite. The prices of goods that were stocked in most of the posh and dapper stores were absolutely cringe-worthy.

Nonetheless, we did our fair amount of window-shopping on the various avenues and store emporiums of the Presidium whilst strolling along the lakeside promenades, basking in the sights and ambience of the place. Landmarks that captured my attention were the Citadel Tower whose structure extended majestically skywards and the Relay Monument, a scale replica of a mass relay at the foot of the Citadel Tower that sat elegantly atop the waters of the lake.

When the 'sky' dimmed, we headed back to the Vanguard to call it a day. When we got back, Nazreil was already in the ship, poring over the screens of a computer terminal I didn't even know we had onboard. The poor guy; apparently Devlon Industries didn't take too kindly to the breach in contract and refused to offer him another one. So Nazreil was now hunting for yet another job that would help him in his Pilgrimage. I chatted with him a little like I promised but that was all I could remember before waking up in my bed…which I still find myself in.

I glance over to the night table on my left out of habit but then I realize my alarm clock is nowhere to be seen and the fact that this is no longer my old room in New Madison. A small pang of nostalgia sweeps over me but I shrug it off, eager yet reluctant at the same time to begin the day. Uncle Leo did say that we're heading down to the Wards to do some actual shopping for some things I might need on our travels. I get all ready and walk by Nazreil's room to which I find the quarian still sleeping soundly in his bed. He still has his green-plated environmental suit on, although the cream-white shawl and accompanying belt buckles that he drapes over his suit lay neatly folded on the night stand alongside that tool belt of his. Huh, I'm surprised that he can even sleep in that thing.

I meet Uncle Leo, who's looking all bright and fresh in a glaringly orange suit at the airlock. Ignoring the travesty of fashion before me, I jerk a thumb towards Nazreil's room. "So, what's up with Nazreil? The guy's still sound asleep. Was he out the whole night or something?"

"Yeah, kind of. I only heard him coming back in just an hour ago," Uncle Leo answers, readjusting his headwear to comfortably cover his fringe.

"What the heck was he doing out then? Don't tell me was out finding a job in the middle of the night?" I ask, puzzled.

"Oh, on the Wards, there's no such thing as a night or day cycle. The people down there go about their business and sleep whenever they feel like it. There's no exact 'time' that they abide by as different species live on different biological clocks as well as their homeworld's respective time cycle," Uncle Leo explains, a bit disgruntled now that he can't get his fringeband to properly sit atop his head.

"Wow, I didn't know that," I reply, slightly taken aback at this interesting piece of trivia. I push the turian still fussing over his headwear towards the airlock, already anxious to get down to the Wards and do some shopping. "Come on, Uncle Leo, let's go already. Whatever that hat-thing is looks fine on you and you're looking as handsome as always."

"Oh really? Handsome enough to, as you humans put it, score with the ladies–" The hiss of the airlock doors drown him out, and we make our way to the elevators that will bring us down to the Wards.

Sometimes, I wonder if Uncle Leo's just a tad bit too obsessed with our culture.

* * *

Fifteen minutes of commute and a frustratingly slow elevator ride from the central ring down to one of the Citadel's arms later, we arrive at the Kithoi Wards. According to Uncle Leo, the Kithoi Wards are one of the more popular shopping destinations for travelers and locals alike aboard the Citadel and it's easy to see why. As soon as we step out into ward's streets, my senses are overwhelmed by the many billboards and advertisement panels dangling from almost every available corner of the boulevard. From the sides of buildings, in the middle of streetways and overhead me, advertisements proclaiming various products tempt me with their catchy slogans and attention-grabbing fonts.

As I walk down the avenue towards Edroki Plaza, a large multi-storey shopping complex at the intersection of a busy street, I greedily take in the sights and sounds before me. The streets here on the Wards are even busier than that of the spaceport with hundreds of pedestrians passing us by as they go about on their daily businesses. I turn my gaze upwards to see towering buildings with all sorts of foreign, alien architecture just blotting out the purple 'sky' of the Serpent Nebula while starships streak above the skyscrapers. The grand scale and beauty of it all just takes my breath away every single time.

"First things first, we need to get you an omni-tool, Nate," Uncle Leo speaks loudly to make himself heard over the din of passers-by all around us. "Never leave for the galaxy without it."

"Omni-tool?" I ask, having entered the shopping complex to which the noise levels of the streets noticeably reduces. "Is that those glowing, orange things you have on your hands?"

"Yep. Trust me, the thing's a lifesaver and it makes daily life so much more convenient."

"Oh really? I get by well enough without one so far," I skeptically reply as we both ascend the escalators to the higher floors of the grand Edroki Plaza where the electronics section are located.

"That's because you've been living on Earth all this while and not amongst the galactic community. From communications, bank account management to entertainment, the omni-tool has it all!" Uncle Leo brims with excitement as we get off on the 5th floor of the plaza.

Bathed in a soft blue glow and pulsing with all sorts of brilliantly-colored holographic displays, the electronics floor is home to what must be hundreds of retail outlets and stores that sell all sorts of devices and doohickeys, most of which I don't even know the functions of. I'm literally lost amidst all these technologies and am instantly grateful that I have Uncle Leo to help me wade through all this plethora of stores.

"Hey, how about that one over there in that display case?" I point to an omni-tool displayed within a glass-encased podium in the centre of the shopping floor.

"That? The Savant Mark 9?" Uncle Leo looks at me with wide-eyed surprise.

"Why not? Just look at all the functions it's capable of performing!" I inspect the device's description and run through the litany of functions that it can do.

"Nate. The only way I'm going to be able to afford one of this for you is if I sold off the Vanguard."

I pause and bring up the price tag on display. "…_Holee crap._"

"Come on now, I'm sure we'll be able to find better deals for you somewhere in one of these shops." Uncle Leo puts his hands on my shoulder and leads me off further into the shopping floor.

After what must be two hours of browsing through the stores and thumbing through the descriptions of every single omni-tool on display, I finally settle for a Polaris Mark 5. Though not the top of the line, this product from Kassa Fabrications is a real bargain (at only 1500 credits!) and of above-average quality. After a brief tutorial on the use of the omni-tool, we spend another good hour hopping from store to store to outfit my omni-tool with several nifty functions that might come in handy. An onboard translation program, a more advanced communications display and an app for mobile video gaming are just some of the few things I've pimped my omni-tool out with. And boy, was Uncle Leo right when he said that you can't go on living without your omni-tool. The variety of functions that it performs is simply remarkable! It's like an all-in-one personal digital assistant.

"Satisfied with your new toy so far, Nate?" Uncle Leo chuckles amusedly while he syncs his omni-tool to mine. We finally make our way out from the shopping plaza back onto the relative cool of the busy streets.

"You were right when you said the damn thing makes life so much easier. Thanks so much for getting me one, Uncle Leo!" I exclaim gratefully, still admiring the small, non-descript wristband on my right hand that holds the processing core of my omni-tool.

"Now that the omni-tool's off the list, we still have several more things to shop for!" Uncle Leo pauses in his steps and looks down at what must be his growling stomach. "But before we do any more shopping, let's eat. I'm starved!" the turian proclaims a bit too loudly before walking to an alfresco human restaurant at the corner of the boulevard where two main avenues meet.

I lower my head in slight embarrassment and quickly take off after him. Thankfully, the café isn't too crowded and we manage to get a table outdoors. I make myself comfortable and sit back to admire the busy streets and their crowds. It's always a sensation of awed disbelief to note as to how different they all looked and dressed, yet manage to coexist with one another for what must be several hundreds of years.

"Well then, Nate. Do you mind staying here while I go inside the store to see what the special of the day is?" Uncle Leo drops the menu on the table and proceeds to get out of his seat.

"Sure. I'll be here," I reply absent-mindedly as my eyes roam aimlessly up and down the avenue. Then, I realize that Uncle Leo's the only turian sitting here in this café; a fact which he is completely oblivious to even as several curious pairs of human eyes appraise him.

I ignore it and drift off into musing about the vastness of the galaxy and of what other surprises that it has in store for me before my rumbling stomach reminds me that I too, am starving. I pick up the menu and scan through it, noting that it's all French fare which is just as well because I _love _French cuisine. I hear a small commotion brewing inside the store but I pay it no heed as I'm much too engrossed on what it is I want to order and chow down on. A shuffling of feet right in front of me catches my attention and I look up from my menu to see a turian in some blue police armor rushing into the store. Through the front windows, I see Uncle Leo in a heated argument with the shopkeeper.

"Oh dammit, Uncle Leo," I facepalm and proceed into the store to defuse the situation.

As I push open the doors into the restaurant, my anxieties are quelled somewhat as the turian officer seems to have things under control; at least Uncle Leo and the shopkeeper are no longer at each other's necks. "Uncle Leo, what's going on?"

The turian officer in the blue armor turns to look at me, "Do you know this man, sir?"

"Uh, yeah I do. He's kind of like, my parental guardian," I answer as truthfully as possible.

"Nate, thank goodness you're here!" Uncle Leo sighs in relief as he finally spots me. "Tell Officer Vakarian here that this is all just a misunderstanding. I see no reason as to why the owner here," he points to the flabbergasted man behind the counter, "refuses to serve a customer who's perfectly capable of paying for his meals."

"I've made it clear to you once, and I'll say it again," the owner says exasperatedly with a distinctive French accent, "I refuse to serve food that could be potentially lethal to my customers because of the biologically different acid structures that they have."

"You know, Mr. Daelon, he does have a point," Officer Vakarian remarks.

"Mister, I've known my Uncle Leo for years now and he's been eating human food in all my time with him without any visible, ill health effects. So, I can safely vouch for the fact that he's able to eat our food without any fatal allergic reactions," I reason with the shopkeeper, hoping that he'll believe me so we can resolve this situation as fast as possible.

"Is this true, Mr. Daelon? What this young man says here?" the officer looks at Uncle Leo with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, it's true. Every single word of it. In fact, I even have a medical certification somewhere with me that states that my physiology can tolerate levo-amino proteins, even despite the fact that they don't give me any nutrition."

"So, why bother eating them in the first place?" Officer Vakarian asks, even more puzzled now.

"Do I really need a valid reason to sample human cuisine? The foods that you humans cook are simply delectable and exquisite!" Uncle Leo gestures with a dramatic sweep of his arms to which I cringe uncomfortably.

"Well then, we French have never denied anyone in savoring our cuisine yet, so in any case, I shall return to the kitchen to prepare your meals, _monsieur_. And I deeply apologize for the inconvenience and the little misunderstanding," the shopkeeper takes a bow and retreats through the kitchen doors.

"I'm glad that's settled then. Mr. Daelon, consider yourself lucky that you're getting off with nothing more than a warning this time. And you," the officer points to me, "keep an eye out for your uncle here, alright?"

"Oh definitely! Will do, officer!" I nod my head a bit too vigorously. Then, I turn to Uncle Leo with furrowed brows and make it a point to sound menacing, "Uncle Leo, let's just sit back at our table and try to enjoy our lunch in _peace_, okay?"

"….Okay," the turian replies a bit sheepishly, his fringe turning a soft shade of blue.

I hear Officer Vakarian departing the store behind me, grumbling about how some inconsiderate people are always causing trouble on his watch and interrupting his investigations of some rogue Spectre guy or something.

Lunch passes by uneventfully enough and the food is every bit as awesome as the environs I now find myself in. After lunch, we walk down more store-lined avenues and poke into the occasional stores whenever Uncle Leo and I see something that catches our fancy. We do a bit more of grocery shopping on a rooftop open-air farmer's market where I can see storekeepers peddling all sorts of exotic (and some disgusting) food items grown and harvested from their own species' equivalent of a farm. Uncle Leo purchases several tubefuls of dextro-amino nutrient pastes for himself and for Nazreil as well while I stock up on food items to snack on and cook in the Vanguard.

By the time we return to the spaceport bay, another whole day, at least by standard Earth hours, has passed. I shuffle lifelessly into the starship; my arms already limp from carrying all the boxes and bags of items that we've shopped for during our outing down to the Wards. Uncle Leo follows closely behind me, just as beat as I am, his suit and fringeband unkempt and already in disarray.

"I'm getting much too old for this," the turian grumbles as he sets his own bags down before collapsing face-first onto the living quarter's sofa.

I manage to make it to the kitchen to put my goods before plopping down onto one of the dining chairs, my body finding instant relief at no longer having to stand. "Uncle Leo, either turn around and sleep on your back or drag yourself to bed. I don't want you complaining about your back again tomorrow morning."

"But I don't want to….." the turian replies, his voice muffled by the pillows which he's stuffed his face into.

"Uncle Leo, remember the last time I had to straighten your back out?"

The turian stiffens from where he's lying on the couch and promptly flips over to right his posture. "Oh spirits, _don't_ remind me."

"My thoughts exactly." I crack a small, satisfactory smile. "So, what's on our agenda tomorrow? Don't tell me there's going to be more shopping and walking because I don't think I can take another step to explore this big ass space station."

"Thankfully, we won't be doing any of that anymore tomorrow. We're just going to take it easy and visit an old friend of mine on the Presidium. I think it's only right that you come along as well, seeing as how we're using her ship and all," Uncle Leo replies, eyes closed and already teetering on the edge of sleep.

Several instances of our escape from New Madison and Verona Spaceport flash through my mind, but in my current state of exhaustion, the recollections don't seem as important as the image of my bed now waiting for me in my room.

"Okay, whatever. Just wake me up when we're about ready to go, alright?" I mumble hazily and summon whatever reserves of strength I have left to get up from my chair. Once I'm up, I stumble awkwardly through the doors to my bedroom, climb behind the sheets of my bed and doze off in the clothes that I'm wearing, like the total slob that I am.

* * *

I totally oversleep the next day, as my omni-tool time display can attest to (a good 12 hours of sleep, in fact). As soon as my consciousness reorients itself, I remember our plans for today and I hurriedly bolt out of bed and into Uncle Leo's bedroom to find it empty. Crap. Didn't I remind him to wake me up before we got going? I guess he forgot, _again_. Sighing, I walk to the kitchen to whip up some breakfast for myself and in the adjacent living quarters, I see said turian still sprawled awkwardly on the sofa, mandibles wide open while he snores and drools away in his dreams.

"You know, for a turian, your Uncle Leo doesn't seem to act much like one, at least from what I've seen so far on my Pilgrimage," an unfamiliar voice speaks.

I choke on the milk I'm drinking, and turn around to face this stranger who somehow managed to get onboard our ship. To my relief, I see Nazreil looking up at me from where he's sitting at the dining table, a tube of nutrient paste in hand. "You okay, Nate?"

Managing to force down the milk stuck in my throat, I breathe out a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you. For a minute there, I thought someone else broke their way into the ship! What's up with the sudden change in your voice?"

Before, I'm used to Nazreil speaking in a somewhat robotic and jarringly halting manner but now, he speaks to me in an almost flawless and fluid tone, with an accent to which I can only describe as closely as possible to be British English to boot. Although, the adorably cute and shy demeanor with which he speaks remains intact.

"What voice? I'm speaking like how I normally do." he cocks his head to the side, puzzled.

"Aren't you listening to yourself? You're like, speaking human English flawlessly now."

"I am?" Nazreil asks, even more confused now. "Then how was I speaking to you before?"

"Well, to be honest, you did kind of sound all robot-like, with your voice being all artificially synthesized."

"Oh…..that_. _Well, you only have my omni-tool's ancient translator to blame. It's horrible compared to the ones out on the market these days, but I get by well enough." Nazreil suddenly perks up and leans forward on his table towards me. "Speaking of which, weren't the both of you," he gestures to the still dozing Uncle Leo, "down shopping on the Wards for your own omni-tool the previous day?"

"Yeah, we were…." A wave of realization dawns upon me and I remember the translator installed into my omni-tool the day before. I bring up its display and notice that the onboard translator is up and running. I can see a little icon of a dictionary on the top left tab of my omni-tool screen. "Damn, are these translator programs efficient or what?"

"Interspecies communications are better facilitated when both parties use translators, so I guess it explains why you're hearing me speak in my natural manner."

"Suh-weet. At least our conversations will no longer be as awkward," I chuckle light-heartedly. As usual, Nazreil averts my gaze again, suddenly finding his tube of nutrient paste of much interest.

I walk over to Uncle Leo still drooling away on the sofa and with the memory of my rude awakening still fresh in mind, gently tug at both his mandibles to lightly rattle him awake.

He snorts and giggles a little. "Oh, stop it. It tickles," the turian mumbles blissfully in his sleep.

Not one to give up easily, I pinch his mandibles a bit harder this time before his eyes shoot open and in a fit of laughter, he rolls off the sofa to crash noisily onto the cold hard floor.

I peer down at Uncle Leo who's now fumbling to get up. "We ready to leave or what?"

As he shoots me a confused and dazed expression, I smugly grin, "That was for waking me up the day before." I head on off to get showered while Nazreil tries his best not to laugh at the scene that has just unfolded before him.

An hour later, Uncle Leo and I finally arrive at the front entrance of the regal Valleon Complexes. Built into the curved walls of the Presidium, this high-end, multi-storey residential complex is located in one of the Presidium's more prime sublots. From where I stand on the ground floor, I can see canopies of greenery peeking out from the well-lit, terraced balconies above which I assume must be the verandahs of the apartment units. The fact that we arrive during the Presidium's night cycle make the complexes look hauntingly beautiful, courtesy of the amalgamation of neon and fluorescent lighting that weaved their way across the building's exterior.

We cross a wide bridge to the front doors where beyond, a courteous asari sits behind a receptionist's desk. The main foyer is grandly lit and welcomingly (if a bit minimally) decorated. We sidle up to the desk that takes up the center of the room and are greeted with a friendly smile from the asari. "Good evening, I'm Nithilia. How may I be of service to you two this evening?"

"I'm Leonus Daelon and we're here to see a friend of mine. Her name's Aurania Talliscon," Uncle Leo informs Nithilia of our business.

She taps several keystrokes and scans through her terminal before returning her attention to us. "Well, the records show that it's been several years since your last visit, Mr. Daelon. Do you wish for me to inform Mrs. Talliscon of your arrival?"

"No, there's no need. I want it to be a surprise visit."

"Well then, her apartment number's 62B and it's located on the sixth floor. Just take the elevator situated behind me. Once you get off the elevators, make a left into the hallway and the apartment should be the third door on your right. "

"Thank you for your help, Nithilia," Uncle Leo nods curtly and heads off in the direction of the elevator with me in tow.

"So, who is this Mrs. Talliscon, Uncle Leo?" I ask as I walk alongside him.

"Oh, she's an asari and she, your dad and I go way back," he replies.

"I see. So, she knew Dad, huh? Wonder if she can tell me more about him," I muse.

"You'll get your questions answered soon enough."

We both get into the elevator and Uncle Leo presses the button for the sixth floor. The door closes and the elevator ascends, providing me with a view of the Presidium's lakeside promenades and boulevards that are bathed in the colors of the night.

* * *

In another apartment on the opposing far side of the Valleon Complexes, Wilkins' communication earpiece buzzes to life, effectively breaking the routine of monotony that the past few days have slipped into. Even despite having not received the incoming transmission, Wilkins knows that this is it; what these past few days of mundane stake-outs and reconnaissance have amounted to. This snaps his awareness back into clear focus. From where he sits behind a table littered with datapads and the dossiers of his objective, he presses a finger to his earpiece.

"We have a visual. Primary and secondary scans confirm it. That's definitely our target," the voice on the other end chatters, most likely belonging to the platoon leader. Tobias, was it? God, of all the people to get saddled with and HQ leaves him with these operatives to babysit. All these fresh-faced recruits, eager to prove themselves have always fucked up, one way or another. Wilkins can't see why this time would be any different. Still, at the very least, they'd be good cannon fodder.

"Copy that, Tobias. Now get your ass back from recon and regroup." Switching his frequency to broadcast to the rest of his men no doubt idling the time away in the rented apartment unit below his, Wilkins barks out the orders. "Squad, get suited up and prepare to move out. The operation's officially a go."

A chorus of affirmation resounds on the other end of the line and shortly after, Wilkins can hear a muffled buzz of activity from downstairs as his squad scrambles to get ready. Several short minutes later, he peers out from his apartment's outdoor verandah and spots a group of people dressed in loud party attire exiting the apartment below him. Good, he notes that their loose-fitting outfits effectively conceal the light body armor that his men are wearing. By the time they cross the bridge into the foyer of the Valleon Complexes, Wilkins already has his black trenchcoat on and is out the door, heading for the service stairwell.

The plan is surprisingly simple and dare he say it, crude even. With the security scanners hacked and rendered useless several days before, all his men needed to do is gain entrance into the complexes under the pretext of throwing a party to celebrate their co-worker's promotion in 67E. Once inside, they neutralize any immediate threats, retrieve the target and be out of there in a few minutes flat. Above all, leave no evidence and nobody would even suspect a thing. What's another case of a tourist going off the radar to C-Sec anyway? As far as he's concerned, the target's a nobody. But as with all plans and the wretched turian that's currently with the target, even the best-laid of plans have the tendency to fall apart. It's always easier said than done, as the little fiasco in New Madison can attest to.

Nonetheless, after days of scouting and staking out the damned asari's apartment, his persistence has paid off at last. And what great timing too, just when he had half a mind to storm into the apartment and beat the information he wanted out of that asari's head, the target conveniently waltzes into his sights. And this time, he's not taking any chances. God knows just how close he is to apprehending the target in a hunt that must have already taken him years.

With this in mind, he activates his earpiece once more while descending the flights of stairs two at a time. "Remember, I want everything to be done quick, quiet and clean. The target is to be taken into custody_ alive _and do whatever you see fit with the turian. But if I hear so much as a commotion or even a single gunshot, I swear to God, you'll regret the consequences. Do you hear me?"

"We copy that, sir."

"Good. Do as I say, and don't fuck up. Over." At the ground floor landing, Wilkins checks over the stun rounds in his suppressed pistol one last time before tucking the weapon away in his coat.

"We're heading up the complex now and about to get into position. We'll move at your mark, over," Tobias responds.

"Well then, it's about damn time we get the party started."

* * *

**Author's notes: Woohoo! A cameo appearance! Ooooh, sneaky, sneaky. Just to clarify, yes, I'm sticking with ME1's canon here and my story is set just slightly before things in ME1 kick into motion. **

**In any case, hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's the longest one I've written yet at 6000 words and I hope to be sticking to this length for future chapters. And feel free to leave your comments, I more than welcome feedback from you guys regarding the way the story's playing out. **

**Thanks for reading and stay tuned for an update next Friday! **


	8. Shootout

**Author's Notes: And...we're already at Chapter 7! I know I've already said this a bunch of times, but still, thanks for sticking around. Well, there's really not much to say this time, so I'll just keep this short. So, I hope you enjoy this next installment in Mass Effect: Remnants! **

**Once again, the Mass Effect series is the copyright and property of Bioware and I own nothing...well, except for my characters, I guess. **

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 7 - Shootout

Oh keelah, a job offer at last! After what must have seemed like weeks of searching, things are finally starting to look up. Judging from the job specifications, it pays even better than that merchant duty on the Caldwella to boot. As of such, here I find myself in a non-descript corner of the Presidium parks, where a representative from Ariake Technologies has suggested we meet to discuss the offer.

I pass by several couples on the park, enjoying their romantic evening strolls and no doubt each other's company, and feel a small pang of loneliness gnawing away at me. It's been almost several months now on my Pilgrimage and already I'm missing the familiar sights and sounds of the Flotilla. The steady, straining hum of the ship's FTL drive cores; the din of activity in the cramped hallways; the air of stale antiquity that permeated the heavily-repaired hulls; it's always the little things that get you the most. Quarians really are few and far in between the galaxy these days and I've only met several of them on my travels thus far. How I wish there're more of us out there to keep the homesickness at bay.

I reach a spot on one of the park's bridges that's veiled by a canopy of trees and take a seat on a nearby bench. Within moments, a formally-attired asari who I assume must be the representative strides towards me with an urgent spring in her steps, a stark contrast with the slow, ambling pace of the evening park-goers.

I stand up to greet her but as she approaches, she opens up her omni-tool to transmit something over to mine and silently whispers, "Sorry to have lied to you about the job, Mr. Vaan. But I could think of no other way to warn you."

I stand there, stunned at her words but after the data transfer's completed, she simply walks off, hardly even acknowledging my presence which leaves me even more puzzled. I snap out of it and inspect the data she's streamed to me, still thinking that it's all part of the job interview.

A video feed from some sort of surveillance camera pops up and it shows two familiar figures; a human and a turian, entering a luxurious condo of some sort. The recording details show it to be taken not more than several minutes ago from what seem to be Unit 62B of the nearby Valleon Complexes. The video loops ahead and the very same room is now filled with gun-toting men and women cautiously combing over the place in search of something. Or someone.

"Oh keelah."

The two figures; Mr Leo and the human kid, Nate. The gravity of the situation hits me like a flash and I peer back into the screen with the words, "Under the bench. Good luck."

Before I even realize the danger that I'll be putting myself into, I reach under the bench without hesistation and find the reassuring feel of two pistols. Am I really going to do this? Sure, they may be strangers but I owe them a huge debt of gratitude for what they've done for me the past few days. The least I can do is repay them, but is it worth taking a bullet or two? Regardless, we quarians are always willing to give ourselves for the greater good. What would it mean if I turned my back on them now?

Doubts stir within my mind but I push them aside long enough to make a mad dash for the complexes. No turning back now.

* * *

Something's definitely not right with this picture here. First of all, who leaves the front door to their luxury condo unlocked? Upon stepping inside, it looks like nobody's home and it's pretty much been that way for quite a while now. The lights are on, the still air within is thick with dust and an unsettling silence falls over the entire apartment.

"Aurania? Hello? Is anybody home?" Uncle Leo calls out, taking a few cautious steps into the posh living room.

Whoever this Aurania person is, she's got herself a pretty sweet place here in the Presidium. Pretty much one end of the entire apartment, directly opposite from where we stand, is made entirely from glass and in the verandah beyond, a panaromic view of the Presidium awaits us. The ceilings are loftily high which slopes down in the natural curve of most Presidium buildings to meet the glass walls. State-of-the-art furnishings as well as a luxuriously tasteful décor that's distinctively asari combine to create the illusion of a grand and palace-like interior.

"Uncle Leo, are you sure this is where she lives? Is it really okay to be just entering like this?" I make my way into the living room as well; unease slowly sinking in the pits of my stomach. This is getting way too suspicious.

Thankfully, Uncle Leo's with me on this one. "Stay close to me, Nate."

We cross the large living room into the adjacent quarters of the apartment where the dining room, kitchen and bedrooms are located. Just like the living room, the place is similarly devoid of life although they do show signs of being recently lived-in like video and picture frames that adorn the rooms.

"Aurania?" Uncle Leo calls out again. "Dammit, this can't be right. Last I checked, she should still be living here."

"Maybe she moved out in a hurry?" I absent-mindedly suggest as I pick up a random picture frame to inspect. Hey, this asari in the frame looks familiar. She looks an awful lot like Ranae! What the hell?

"No, that can't be. It isn't like Aurania to just up and leave without informing me of anything." Uncle Leo exasperatedly sighs. "In any case, let's look around a bit more. At the very least, she would have left a message behind or something."

"Alright, lead the way. But I don't have a good feeling about this." I return the picture to its position by the kitchen counter and follow Uncle Leo into what must be the master bedroom located at the far rear of the apartment.

"Well, you're not the only one," Uncle Leo mutters, tension evident in his voice now.

The bedroom is also untouched as the pristine sheets on the large queen-sized bed can attest to. Uncle Leo proceeds to the chest of drawers over by the bed and starts rifling through its contents. I let my eyes roam around the lavishly-decorated room a bit and they come to rest on a pulsing yellow light coming from the bedroom's computer terminal display. Huh, so Uncle Leo was right after all. She did leave a message.

"Uncle Leo, over here. There's something on the terminal." I beckon the turian over to my side while I power on the display.

The screen flickers to life and a recording of a rather grave-looking asari appears. I guess that's Mrs. Aurania alright. "Leonus, by the time you view this, I'll no longer be on the Citadel," she pauses a bit and continues on in a hushed but imperative tone, "I've heard from Lyraxus about the situation in New Madison and I've been trying to establish contact with you ever since but I just can't seem to get through to you on any of the secure channels." Another pause as she glances out the windows. "And it looks like they're on to me at last so I've no choice but to abandon this place. If you need me, I'll be where we first got ourselves into this mess. Sorry I couldn't tell you this any sooner without the risk of being discovered. You should probably leave the Citadel as soon as possible too. They'll definitely be looking for the two of you. Also, keep _him _safe until you get here. " And with that, the video comes to an abrupt end.

I feel a surge of frustration and anger start to well up within me. Well, isn't this just frickin' great! I come here, dragging my ass across the galaxy expecting answers and I've run into yet another wall of cryptic messages. And from what I gather from that message, I can safely vouch for the fact that we're officially on the run from what, I don't even know! I don't think I'd be all that wrong to assume that that blonde man in the trenchcoat from New Madison is involved in all of this.

"Uncle Leo, look. For once, I want to know just what the hell does she mean–"

I'm cut short as Uncle Leo firmly clasps my mouth shut with his talons and raises a talon to his mouth to signal for me to be quiet. Then, I hear it – the soft footfalls of several people inside the apartment and the subtle shift in the currents of the air as the presence of life makes itself known in the building.

The turian slowly sidles up to the bedroom door and takes a furtive peek into the living room outside. "Shit."

"What is it this time?" I hiss.

"Remember that one guy dressed in black back in New Madison?"

Figures. "What about him? I thought you said we lost him?"

"Well, I was wrong. And he's brought company this time around too." Uncle Leo looks at me gravely.

"Fuck," I curse. "So what now? I don't think they'll just let us waltz out the front door."

"Hold on. I'm thinking." Uncle Leo furrows his brow plates in concentration as he scans frantically around the room.

I take a quick peek outside before ducking my head straight back into the room. Oh crap. There's 6 of them outside, all of them fully armed. The odds aren't looking too good on our part. I can start to feel my heart thumping and cold sweat running down my back. I look back to Uncle Leo, hoping he's got some sort of plan to get us out of this mess. Whatever it is we're going to do, we'd better do it fast because I can hear their footsteps fast approaching.

"I'm really letting myself get rusty. Of all the days to leave my gun back in the ship…" He gets down on all fours to reach for something under the bed….and emerges, brandishing a shotgun in hand.

"What the hell? Where'd you get that?" I ask, shocked at the fact that someone's crazy enough to leave that much firepower tucked away at home. We've really gotten ourselves into some deep shit, haven't we?

"Questions can wait, Nate. Remember now, stay behind me and find cover." Uncle Leo gives the gun a menacing cock of the pump. "Looks like we have no choice but to shoot our way out of this one."

"Don't I at least get a gun too? You know, just in case?"

"Nope. There's only this one shotgun when I looked. Aurania must have taken the sidearm with her." Shotgun in hand, Uncle Leo takes his position next to the open bedroom door. "So when I give the signal, we run for cover by those pillars separating the dining room and living room. Understood?"

I wordlessly nod, breathing deeply to psyche myself for what's going to happen next.

"Alright…..GO!"

At his command, we both spring out of the room and make a mad sprint for said pillars. Uncle Leo manages to let loose several thunderous roars from his shotgun before reaching his side of the pillar. Taken by surprise, one of the men and a woman go down after taking the brunt of the shots head-on; the rounds tearing right through their shields. Quick to respond, the remaining ones in the room throw themselves behind whatever piece of cover's available and start firing back.

"Contact! Shots fired! I repeat, shots fired!" I hear one of the operatives yell. "Engage enemy hostiles but Wilkins wants the target alive!"

I note that unlike the reverberating booms of Uncle Leo's shotgun blasts, the guns of the men firing back at us emit low-pitched noises followed by a buzzing hum whenever they're fired. There's hardly even any muzzle flash at all which is when I realize it. Thank a lifetime of shooter video games for helping me come to that conclusion.

"Uncle Leo! They're using stun rounds!" I yell over the din of battle. I wince a bit as a vase on the worktop near me explodes into shards of ceramic and fine dust.

The turian retreats back into cover to vent the gun which I can see is already overheating from the non-stop pulling of the trigger. "What? Stun rounds?" He pops out of cover again to let loose another salvo of hot lead. "Dammit! Whatever you do, keep your head down!"

The firefight is soon turning into a stalemate. The linear architecture of the building leaves no room to outflank either side and despite the trading of bullets, we're unable to advance forward towards the front doors. They've got us pinned down back here and I'm not even sure just how much longer our luck's going to hold out. Another resonating boom of the shotgun and I see another one of the operative who's caught out in the open get clipped in the shoulder.

"Man down! Shit!" there's a slight pause as the squad reconsiders its tactical approach. "Squad, switch to lethal sidearms! I repeat, use of deadly force is now authorized! Weapons hot! Do whatever it takes to bring that fucking turian down, just don't hit the kid! We need him alive!" another order is barked out from one of the operative who I assume must be the squad leader.

"Oh spirits. That can't be good," Uncle Leo mutters from where he's pressed up against the pillar across from mine.

There's a short lull in gunfire but soon enough, I hear the familiar cracks of pistol fire and wince a bit as bullets ping off the pillar far too close for comfort.

"Uncle Leo!"

"I know! I know!" the turian yells as he presses himself even closer against the pillar while bullets chip away at the sides of his cover, desperately venting out the red-hot barrel of the already overheated shotgun. "Damnit! Stupid gun!"

Pinned down, unarmed for the time being and with those guys rapidly gaining the advantage, I don't see how we're going to get out of this one alive. I can feel the chilling cold of fear snaking up my back and the finality of our predicament pressing down on me. What the hell have I done to even get myself into this mess?

From out of the corner of my eyes, I swear that I see the front doors open to reveal a familiar figure. The new arrival quickly opens fire on the rear flanks of the operatives and takes out two of those unlucky enough to have depleted their shields, which just leaves 1 of them left standing. The squad leader whirls around to face their new assailant and I catch a sight of a familiar green-plated enviro-suit as the quarian slides into cover behind a bookshelf, drawing the operative's fire.

"Nazreil!" What's he doing all the way here? Actually, screw that, I'm thankful enough that he came for us when he did.

I look back to the distracted squad leader and find that Uncle Leo has already bounded over into the living room. In one fluid motion evident with years of practice, he vaults over the sofa setting behind which the squad leader has taken cover and smashes his jaw in with the butt of the shotgun with a satisfying _crunch_. The man drops lifelessly to the ground. Once we're in the clear, I step to where Uncle Leo and Nazreil are converging in the living room, surveying the destruction we've left in our wake. Bullet marks riddle the walls and several furnitures are reduced to nothing more than splinters and stuffing.

"Oh my god, Nazreil! How the hell did you know we were here?" I ask the quarian, voice still quivering slightly from that close brush with death.

"I don't think now's the time for that, Nate." He turns to Uncle Leo. "Mr Leo, I think we need to move now. I saw several of these men on my way up and I think they definitely would've heard the commotion in here."

"Alright, thanks for the heads-up, Nazreil. Oh, I don't know how you managed to find us here, but I'm grateful that you did." Uncle Leo gives Nazreil a pat on the shoulder.

"Shit, you mean this isn't all of them?" I ask incredulously. "There're more of them down there?"

Nazreil nods as he bends down to examine one of the dead operatives' bodies. "Whoever these people are, they're real professionals. Just look at the gear they're carrying, it's top of the line in the market these days; Colossi light armor, Razer pistols from Kassa Fabrications...keelah, what have you two gotten yourselves into?"

"We'll talk later. You boys ready to get out of here or what?" Uncle Leo calls out from where he's already standing by the front doors.

"You know how to use a gun, Nate?" Nazreil reaches to one of his side holsters and tosses me a pistol. "This one here's a Stinger Mark 4. It's got quite a bit of a kick, so watch out."

I catch the sidearm, extend its components, disengage the safety and pull back the slide to chamber a round. "What? Blame an unhealthy addiction to video games….and the Code of Honor shooter series," I sheepishly reply when the quarian cocks his head questioningly. "But no, I've never fired one in real life before though."

"Well, like it or not, you're about to. Let's go."

We catch up to Uncle Leo by the door and he takes point, leading us down the hallway to the elevators. No sooner than we step out of the room, another squad of those operatives rounds the corner at the end of the hallway; this time led by that blonde man in the black trenchcoat. And boy, does he look _pissed. _

"Get back, get back!" Uncle Leo pushes us both stumbling back into the room as shots ricochet off the frame of the doors where we've been standing just moments before. As we fall back into the room, Uncle Leo's quick to slide the front doors shut and lock it behind him.

I hear muted shouts to cease fire and a reprimanding voice outside but pay it little attention as I pick myself and Nazreil off the ground. Uncle Leo strides over to the verandah and we follow suit. "Looks like the elevators are a no go, so we'll need to find another way out of here." Three of us are out on the balcony now and Uncle Leo peers over the edge, trying to find us an escape route. "There!" he points out. "You see that verandah right below us? It's not too far of a drop, so it's our best shot."

I follow his line of sight and look over to what Uncle Leo's pointing at and make the mistake of looking directly beneath me. Shit. A six-storey plummet to our deaths on the Presidium grounds below. I shrug it off and get myself to focus on what Uncle Leo meant. Another verandah juts out from below us and if we can aim our drop just right, we'll be able to land in the foliage of what looks to be a sky garden in the ledge below to break our fall.

"Yeah, I see it, Uncle Leo."

"Nate, you go first! And then Nazreil, got me?" Uncle Leo orders.

"Well, here goes." I tuck my pistol into the waist of my pants and clamber over the railings. The fear is gone now, replaced only by the pulsing rush of adrenaline and the raw instinct to survive now that we've got a fighting chance. With my hands dangling by the railings six storey above ground level, I slowly rock my body back and forth like a pendulum before timing my momentum just right to release my grip. The forward momentum carries me in a downward arc towards the green dense foliage.…and I totally miss it; instead I land and roll off the hard floor, with the wind knocked out of me.

Nazreil lands next to me on his feet and pulls me up while I struggle to reorient myself. Uncle Leo drops to the ground shortly after. "You alright, Nate?" Nazreil asks as he looks me over.

"Yeah. I'm good. Don't worry about me, let's just get going." I make for the opposite end of the garden where the exit doors are and feel a dull throb in my legs from where I sprained them upon landing. Thankfully, the adrenaline's numbing the pain for the time being.

The three of us cut through the well-manicured hedges of flowers and lawn ornaments of the gardens and stop short when we hear the buzzing hums of stun rounds flying right past us. I dig my soles into the ground and dive sideways to take cover behind a rather ornate-looking fountain. I press up against the fountain, pull out my pistol and find that Uncle Leo's just beside me, having taken cover behind the fountain as well. "I'm really, _really_ starting to get sick of being shot at for no reason, Uncle Leo!"

"Yeah? Try serving in the military back when I was your age then," the turian snappily retorts, trying to get a bead on our shooters on the ledge above us.

I brace myself against the hail of bullets as well as chipped porcelain and poke out to aim my pistol one-handed at the verandah. I get a clear line of sight at one of the operatives on the balcony above and squeeze the trigger. Worst mistake _ever_. The gun fires with a mighty pop and the resulting recoil of the shot sends an explosion of pain coursing through my joints and whips my entire right arm back over my head; the pistol coming dangerously close to smashing my face in.

"Argh!" I cry out and clutch my sprained arm, trying to quell the pain. "Why do they make it look so easy in video games?"

"Nate, you okay? Were you shot?" Uncle Leo scrambles over to have a look at my arm now lying uselessly by my side.

"No, I'm alright. Just hurt my arm from the recoil, that's all," I reply through gritted teeth.

"Damnit Nate! You didn't brace the gun before you pulled the trigger." He breathes a sigh of relief. "When we get out of this, I'm definitelygoing to need to give you some shooting lessons."

The initial shock of the recoil's starting to ebb away now and I can feel some semblance of sensation returning to my right arm. I gingerly pick up the pistol in my right hand and peer around the fountain to find that some of the operatives have already jumped down onto the sky garden, including that blonde man.

"Come on, Nate! They're gaining on us so get up and move!" Uncle Leo drags me up to my feet. "Nazreil, give me some suppressing fire while we get to the door!"

The quarian nods and pops out of cover, squeezing rounds after rounds from his handgun in the general direction of our pursuers. "I can't keep them all pinned down forever! Hurry up!"

We make a break for the exit door, all the while ducking under the continuous barrage of bullets. It's a miracle that we manage to avoid catching a bullet in the back seeing as how we don't even have any sort of protective gear on us. We stumble back into the building and Uncle Leo squeezes off several shots to cover Nazreil's advance. Once Nazreil makes it through, I lock the sliding doors and smash the power control panel with the pistol for good measure.

"Good thinking. That should buy us some time," Uncle Leo manages to croak out in between gasps of air, as he leans back against the wall to catch his breath. "I'm getting too old for this."

"So, what now, Mr. Leo?" Nazreil asks, also winded by the burst of physical exertion.

"Yeah, what now?" I repeat Nazreil's question. "Didn't that Aurania lady say to get the hell off the Citadel as soon as we can to meet up with her someplace?"

"Alright, just like what Nate said; we head on straight down to the spaceport and leave the Citadel. We can lose them down there too, and I doubt if they're going to be shooting up all over a public place." Uncle Leo hefts his shotgun and makes his way for the stairwell.

We hurry our way down the winding stairwells to the ground floor and emerge in the front lobby to see the asari receptionist cowering behind her receptionist's desk. She must have heard the gunshots, then. Upon noticing us and the guns we're carrying, she lets out a small whimper and ducks back beneath the desk. I'm much too caught up with trying to survive to realize that flaunting off our guns in public isn't probably the best of ideas.

"Damnit, C-Sec's gonna be on their way up here soon. We wouldn't want to be here when they show up, so come on, pick up the pace you two." Uncle Leo exits the building and breaks out into a brisk jog, shotgun still in hand. Nazreil and I follow suit. Once we're out across the bridge into the cool air of the night, a noise from behind us catches our attention and I see the operatives spilling out from the front doors. I don't need to be told twice to get my legs pumping as we race for the spaceport.

"Well, if I don't get all fit and buff from all this running around, I'm gonna be seriously pissed," I joke to Nazreil who's running alongside me.

The quarian can only shoot me an incredulous expression, if the limited expression through his visor and general body language is to go by, and turns his attention back to the path ahead. "I'm not sure how to respond, but is this how you humans usually cope with life-threatening situations?"

The area of the Presidium nearby the Valleon Complexes are still rather deserted this time of the night cycle, which doesn't bode well for us as we need to keep our heads down against the bullets whizzing by all over us. We blaze our way under the warm, luminescent glows of the streetlights laid along the promenade and blindly fire behind us, trying to slow our pursuers. With my heart pounding in my ears and my lungs aching in pain, I feel as though I'm running through a dream, the surrealism of it all casting a hazy quality to everything I see in front of me. Before I know it, the night-time lakes and greenery of the Presidium melt away to be replaced by the hectic crowds and bustling atmosphere of the Citadel's Intergalactic Spaceport.

"Split up and meet at the Vanguard, you two!" Uncle Leo manages to yell out to us before he's consumed from our sights by the crowd.

I take one quick look over my shoulders and weave into the oncoming traffic of people. I just hope I can remember the general direction of where our docking platform is. Surprisingly, I make it through the endless stream of the spaceport crowds with less effort than I was expecting as some of them just stand aside to let me pass. I barely notice the puzzled looks of alarm that some are giving me and the pistol that I'm clutching in my hand. The display numbers for the docking bays fly past me overhead and I shoulder my way out from the crowd upon seeing the numbers for platform ET-781. Uncle Leo and Nazreil are just ahead of me and out of nowhere, an armed man who no doubt must be with our pursuers steps off from the Vanguard. Bad idea, dude. A look of surprise crosses his features as Uncle Leo performs a brutal military takedown on the poor guy with deadly precision. The man's pistol goes off as he's unceremoniously face-planted to the ground. The two get onboard the ship and I will my already aching legs to pump faster.

Then, I feel a small prick on my left shoulder before my whole vision erupts in stars as volts of red-hot electricity from the stun round sear through my every being. Fuck, does it hurt!Through the immobilizing pain, I'm just barely able to hold on to my consciousness and by sheer force of will alone, I force my limbs to move one at a time. I can no longer feel my legs or arms but yet it feels as though they weighed a ton of lead. A wall of muteness blankets my ears, and the remaining distance to the Vanguard swims hazily in front of me.

Nazreil who's already waving to me from the airlock doors looks so close, yet he seems like a mile away. Step by sure step, I shamble forward, each step a tremendous effort, before Nazreil frantically points to something on my right. It takes all the ounce of energy I can muster to turn my head in that direction and it takes even more to maintain enough sense of clarity to realize that one of the fuel canisters next to me is riddled with a bullet hole and on fire. Despite the state of my mind that feels as though it's been thrown into a mixer…..

"Oh shit."

In my mind's eye, I perfectly capture the image of the flash as the flammable substance from within the canister balloons its way outwards into one big red, fiery conflagration. The scorching wave of heat hits me head-on before the concussive force of the blast sends me flying off my feet into the railings on the opposing side of the small platform. I'm gonna be feeling _that_ in the morning. Disoriented and with the world spinning all around me, I use the railings to pull myself up and continue to make for the Vanguard with single-minded determination. Buoyed by nothing more than my goal to reach the safety of the starship and a fear of what those operatives had in store if they caught me, each step forward is a fight to not give into that desire of blacking-out.

My vision's fleeting in and out of blackness now, and clinging solely to the railings, I slowly drag my way to the foot of the airlock doors where I collapse. The rest of the spaceport as well as several curious onlookers drawn by the commotion at our docking platform pan out before me, and I feel a strong tug on the collar of my back pulling me into the ship. I spot the familiar figure of the blonde man in black standing amongst the crowds before he's obstructed by the ship's hull. As the airlock doors shut close, so too do my eyes. And then, nothing.

* * *

**Author's Notes: I'm still relatively new to writing action sequences so I'm still trying to get the hang of capturing the brisk and unrelenting pace at which the action unfolds. But I'll admit it was a fun piece of writing to do though! And regarding the equipment and weapons I've decided to write into the story, since this is the first part in a planned trilogy, I'll be adhering to the weapons lore and system that's featured in Mass Effect 1. I find it more...fitting that way as the story is meant to intertwine with the events from the first game. **

**So, I guess that's all I have to say. Thanks for reading, guys and gals...and stay tuned for the next installment next Friday as usual. I'll probably try to update this first thing in the morning.**

**Toodles~**


	9. The Underworld

**Author's Notes: As promised, another weekly update to Mass Effect: Remnants! Thanks to you guys for still tuning in! Well, I'd hate to give away any surprises at the beginning of this chapter, so I'll leave it to you readers to find out. Emotionally-charged scenes are tough to write, but I hope I did it well enough without the scenes coming across as...you know, cheesy. If not, guess I've still got lots to improve on. **

**Anyways, the Mass Effect universe is property of Bioware and I own nothing whatsoever of its IP.**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 8 - Underworld

I'm drifting through space again; drifting through yet another one of those vivid dreams I keep having about the end of our galaxy as we know it. There's that sonorous and faceless voice spouting some cryptic nonsense to me again. I turn to look back at the planets and there they are, riddled with destruction and lying in ruins. The menacing hulks of those sentient machine-like aliens swarm in the thousands across my vision. The chain of events in the dream repeats in a perfect cycle every single time I have them. Though I know what's coming, that doesn't shake the feeling of helpless despair that chills me to the bone every time I witness this purge of all galactic life.

Suddenly, I find myself standing on the surface of a planet where weird outcrops of alien-looking trees and monolithic pillars loom menacingly over me at every corner. The color of rust blankets everything in sight. That's funny; this never happened before. Then, I'm whisked away again; finding myself in between two towering walls of what looks like life-pods stretching far away into the distance. Again, another glimpse of what looks like a mass relay, pointing skywards from where it's anchored onto the ground. Now, another indistinct vision of some sort of massive weapon aimed at the stars above. Then, a courtyard; an assembly of several silhouettes; a ground view of those massive machines laying waste to a civilization; the dying throes of living beings; endless sorrow; and then, a faint glimmer of hope. The flashes of all these sceneries become even more and more erratic before they finally die out altogether.

"Nate…"

The line between dreams and reality is shattered as somebody calls out my name. Upon hearing it, the fleeting, floating sensation of a dreamer relinquishes its hold on me; only to be replaced by that tangible weight of the waking world boring down on me. I feel my consciousness returning and my senses start to become aware of its surroundings. My eyes slowly flutter open and I wince at an orange light that's far too bright for my vision to acclimatize to.

"…Mr. Leo…..waking up….keelah…..come quick!"

I only manage to catch snippets of someone excitedly saying something and can make out the presence of someone next to me. I feel the soft, warm fabric of a blanket draped over me and soon enough, the colors, sights and sounds of the world around me start to slowly fill their way into my awareness one by one. Oh, I'm in a bed. And a very comfortable one at that, I might add. I struggle to sit up but a sudden, excruciating pain in my back abandons my intent to.

"Crap, that hurts," I weakly mumble before realizing that I'm really, really thirsty.

A flutter of movement from the corner of my eyes catches my attention and I turn my head to my bedside to see the faces of a very concerned Uncle Leo and Nazreil gazing down on me. The old turian looks as though he's been through hell and back, if his bloodshot eyes and ragged face is any indicator. His mandibles widen and flex; expression torn between that of relief and disbelief. Then, he pulls me into a deep hug, his voice choking on the tears he's no doubt been holding in for a quite a while now. I'm caught off guard by this, but in the heat of the moment, I feel it's only right to return the favor.

"Oh spirits, Nate, you're okay….You're alright…" he sobs, burying his face in my shoulders and hugging onto me for dear life.

"Yeah…..I'm okay, Uncle Leo. I'm still here." I softly reply, giving him a gentle squeeze to prove my point. Ouch, him hugging me like this isn't such a good idea for my aching back.

"Spirits…for a moment there, I thought you were never going to wake up. I thought that…..I've lost you. You've been in bed for almost two whole days now ever since we got off the Citadel, you know?" Uncle Leo turns to look at me with his tear-streaked face after pulling out of the embrace. "I've done everything I could to treat those wounds of yours….but I was so afraid it wasn't good enough." He wipes his tears off with the sleeve of his shirt. "I won't lie to you, Nate. You were really in a bad shape when we got you aboard the ship. But it's good to see you're okay."

"I'm with Mr. Leo on this one. I didn't know that your species were so resilient," Nazreil chimes in, "I mean, you were still able to walk even after taking one of those stun rounds head-on. Most would already be lying unconscious on the ground." Nazreil's tone starts to become more animated now as he continues on. "And the explosion! Keelah! I've seen you thrown across the platform in the blast and yet you've still managed to crawl your way towards the airlock. Just what are you humans made of?"

"…What?" I try to jog my memory, the recollections of the escape from those operatives on the Citadel coming back to me in fragmented pieces. Aurania Talliscon, yet another cryptic message, the shootout in the Valleon Complexes, the searing pain from the stun rounds unlike anything I've ever felt before, the exploding fuel tank, the blonde man in that black trenchcoat; it's all starting to form a cohesive picture in my mind now. "Wait, you said that I've been out for almost two days now?"

"It's coming close to three now in Earth time by my count, but that doesn't matter. Take all the time you need to rest up and recover. You've been through a lot. Hell, we all have." Uncle Leo gives me a remorseful pat on the cheek and a weary smile from where he sits on my bed.

Oh my god. Two whole days? No wonder Uncle Leo must be worried sick. I take a glance at said turian and note that his clothes are all disheveled; his face gaunt with the tell-tale signs of lack of sleep. More importantly, are his eyes that attested to just what a nightmare these past two days must be for him. They just look so hollow and dead on the inside, but I can see a glimmer of life returning into them, even through the tears that are still flowing freely from them. "Enough about me, what about you two? Are you two okay? And by the way, can I get a glass of water to drink? I'm so thirsty right now," I ask.

"Oh, I'll get it for him, Mr. Leo." And with that, Nazreil exits the room.

"If you're worried about Nazreil and I, don't be. We're okay. Aside from a few scratches and bruises here and there, there's nothing to worry about. All that matters is that you're okay." As I struggle to sit up once more to see out the bedroom window, he puts a comforting hand on my shoulder urging me to lie back down. "No, I wouldn't do that if I were you. You just lie back down and get some rest, Mister," he manages to tearfully croak out.

"I just want to know where are we right now, that's all," I mockingly pout. I never did quite like Uncle Leo taking on that tone of an overprotective parent with me. It just sounds so _weird_ coming from a turian.

Uncle Leo averts my gaze for a moment and sighs deeply. He turns back to me. "We're in this little place called Omega right now….and we're kind of stuck here for the time being."

Try as I might to hide it, a small flicker of excitement colors my voice. Any other normal person in my bedridden condition would have the prospect of sightseeing as the last thing on their mind, but not me. "Omega? Never heard of this place before. Any nice things to see and do around here?"

Uncle Leo can only chuckle lightly at this query of mine before he gets off the bed to head for the door. "Just try to get some rest, will you? We'll worry about sightseeing once you feel better enough to walk on your own two feet."

"Alright. But you better keep to your promise, Uncle Leo."

He gives one last look over his shoulders and exits my bedroom, to which Nazreil comes in with a glass of water in hand. I weakly lift my hands up to accept the glass and with Nazreil's help, I down it in small sips. Ah, that feels much better…but Uncle Leo sure wasn't kidding with how badly I got myself hurt. It's such an immense effort to even drink that whole glass of water. My whole body feels so weak that my limbs weigh a ton and coupled with that aching back of mine, I'm definitely in no condition to go anywhere.

"You should listen to your uncle, Nate. Just try to get some rest. Oh, you might not want to move around so much or else you're going to mess up the bandages that the doctor has wrapped around your wounds," Nazreil points out.

"Hey, sorry to have dragged you into this, Naz. I know this isn't what you wanted of your Pilgrimage and all…"

The quarian is quick to respond. "Don't worry about it too much. We quarians try not only to help our own people back on the Flotilla, but others who need them as well…..it's just part of what our Pilgrimage's all about." Nazreil walks over to the window and takes a glimpse outside. "Besides, if it wasn't for you two, I'd still be stuck on the Citadel with no place to stay and no work to do. Perhaps, I might even be able to find something here to return to my Flotilla with. Really, you're actually doing me a favor."

"So, do you have any idea on where we are right now? Say….what kinda place Omega is?"

Nazreil returns his gaze to me and I see a faint outline of hesitation spread across his visor. "You know what, your uncle's right. You'd better lie back and get some rest. We'll talk more about it once you've recovered."

Sure enough, I reach under my shirt and feel the weave of bandages swathed across the whole of my back and abdomen. Wait, Uncle Leo brought a doctor in here to dress these wounds? Wow, he must have really pulled some strings to even have a doctor make a house call like this. "You said a doctor treated my injuries right? I mean, given the extent of my wounds, shouldn't I be admitted into a hospital or something?"

"Yeah, a salarian doctor came by the ship and tended to your wounds. A Dr. Solus, if I recalled. Besides, he said it'd be too much of a risk to move you elsewhere given your state. Hmm…..he did seem a little strange for a doctor, but he sure did patch you up good," Nazreil remarks.

"Then I'll be sure to send him my thanks," I mumble aloud as I feel a heavy tug on my eyelids. As much as I hate to say it, both Uncle Leo and Nazreil's right. I'd better rest up and hope that I'll feel better in the morning. And God, my back's just killing me; hopefully I'll be able to sleep it off. Nazreil politely takes his leave and after struggling to stay awake to maintain some semblance of a conversation with those two, I finally give in to that bodily urge of mine to drift off into sleep.

* * *

Yay, I'm finally up and about! And my back's feeling better enough for me to get around without doubling over in pain. Look at me, I'm finally able to get out of bed on my own and walk to the bathroom!

Although, these bandages on my body are starting to get a tad bit uncomfortable. Might as well take them off, I guess. So, I gingerly find the end of the bandages and start to unwind them off my body. I turn my back facing the mirror and find that there are only several lightly-hued bruises and scars to mark where my wounds once were. Wow, either my injury wasn't all that serious to begin with or that salarian doctor must be awesome at what he does. I'm thinking the former; although I wouldn't be very much surprised if it was the latter.

A quick shower and a change of clothes later, I step into the living quarters of the ship to find Uncle Leo at the dining table, staring intently into a datapad while papers are strewn all over the table's surface. Nazreil's nowhere to be found though, so I'm guessing he must still be asleep or out prowling Omega looking for something to take back on his Pilgrimage. The turian notices me and starts to get up. "Nate, your injuries; you shouldn't be walking around–"

I wave him off. "It's okay, Uncle Leo. I promise you I'm feeling a whole lot better now."

"But you just woke up from a three-day coma just yesterday. And given the degree of your injuries, they don't just heal overnight," Uncle Leo worriedly cautions as he sits back down.

"Relax, Uncle Leo. Look," I pull up my shirt and show him my back, "there's hardly even any bruising or cuts left at all."

The turian is slightly taken aback. "Well, if you insist. Knowing you, I doubt if you could stay in bed for a moment longer anyways. Just….try not to overexert yourself, okay?"

I reach into various cabinets to get something to eat before realizing that I've not eaten anything solid for at least 3 days now. And boy, am I starving. I finally settle for several slices of toasts and a big bowl of cereal before plopping my meal down on the table. I greedily (and noisily) stuff my face full with breakfast while Uncle Leo silently pores over the documents he has in front of him. Having emptied the contents of my plates, I decide now's a good time as any to ask Uncle Leo what's on my mind ever since New Madison. What not with the whirlwind of events happening all around me, I've never quite gotten the perfect chance to actually talk to Uncle Leo about it. I'm either always too caught up in the moment to ask him or circumstances usually get in the way of me bringing up the topic. But not this time. This time, I want answers.

"Hey, Uncle Leo. If you're not too busy right now, can we talk for a bit?"

He looks up from where he's sitting across the table from me. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

"Well, how should I put this….I've been meaning to ask you this ever since New Madison but things kept getting in the way and I've never quite found the right time to talk to you about it."

His eyes widen slightly in apprehension as he fidgets uncomfortably in his seat. "Nate….."

Hearing that tone of his voice to assuage me from pressing the matter further, I feel a flicker of frustration start to coil inside of me. "No, don't do this to me now, Uncle Leo. I've been waiting and waiting for answers that never come. In fact, I've been patiently waiting 13 years for you to tell me just what exactly is going on with us – with _me_."

A look of despondence creases his features now. "Nate….I know I've promised to tell you everything. But, I don't think you should know just yet."

God damnit. What is it with Uncle Leo? Is it so hard to just let spill a little bit of what's going on with me; is it better this way to always keep me in dark? All I need is just one piece of the puzzle so I can at least have an idea of the entire picture and where I fit into it. Is that so hard to ask? "Know what? What is it that I shouldn't know about myself? About you? About this whole life of mine for the past 13 years? Don't I have a right to know?" I hear myself raising my voice now but I'm blinded to this fact by the emotions that are stirring within me.

"Trust me, Nate. As much as it pains me to want to tell you so badly about what's going on, you're better off not knowing." His voice takes on a solemn edge. "You…you wouldn't like the answers you find at the end of this road."

"There we go again, '_trust me'_. You know something Uncle Leo, you'd think I never noticed the constant moving? You'd think I never noticed what it is that you get up to when you claim to go to work?" anger and frustration colors my voice and I point an accusing finger at the turian, "I know something isn't right, Uncle Leo. But I have the decency to respect your privacy and to patiently wait for the day when you'd feel ready enough to tell me everything."

Uncle Leo opens his mouth to say something but hurtling ahead on pure momentum alone, I cut him off. "But that all changed with New Madison, doesn't it? I mean come on, it's not everyday that someone barges into your idyllic life and starts shooting up the place, isn't it?" I pause to take in a lungful of air, my panting breaths heavy with a dam of emotions threatening to burst at any moment, and continue on. "To make matters worse, just when we thought we're safe, he found us again on the Citadel and this time, we weren't so lucky to make it out unharmed."

I rise bolt upright to my feet and send the chair clattering onto the floor. "I was shot at, I almost died and yet, you think it's all fine and dandy to just let me brush it off and pretend as though nothing ever happened? If not about our whole life so far, then you're at least obligated to tell me why the hell are there people out there so intent to capture me that they're willing to kill for me?" I practically scream out the last of it; my vision now blurring with tears from the outburst.

Caught off guard, Uncle Leo is at a loss for words. He closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh, no doubt carefully assembling his reply. He weakly attempts to regain his composure and once he has resumed some semblance of paternal authority, he speaks. "I'll admit it, Nate. I was….wrong in trying to hide the truth from you. I sometimes forget just how fast time flies and just how grown-up you are now," his voice starts to quiver a little but Uncle Leo forges on, "but just know that I did it because your father and I wanted to protect you. All he wanted of you was to just live a normal life and that you didn't have to pay the price for what he's done."

The mention of Dad shifts the tone of the conversation somewhat, and corks the gushing torrent of bottled emotions from within me momentarily. However, just as soon as his name halts my train of thought, it immediately fuels the conflagration of emotions now burning inside of me.

"Throughout these years, I've been trying my best to honor that promise of his but the fact that you take so much after him complicates the matter," the turian grins a remorseful smile. "You're just as headstrong and stubborn as he is; always out to find the truth with a tenacity typical of your kind. And speaking of truths, it was what your father discovered that puts us where we are right now in our current predicament."

"Truths? Truths?" I say incredulously. "You're one to talk about truths! So, if I ask about what it is that happened to Dad all those years ago – him leaving us just like that to chase after some discovery of his, you're going to tell me? Or are you just going to withhold that answer from me as well, Uncle Leo?"

"I…I…." with a pained expression, he averts my gaze for a moment but brings himself to look back at me in the eyes. "I just…can't, Nate. You have to understand, I just _can't_. Your father wouldn't have wanted you to go after him, not where he's going. It's what he wanted of you and it's what he's trusted me to do."

"Dammit, Uncle Leo. Why, just why can't you tell me?" I'm getting nowhere with this. Damned turians and their stupid sense of honor! I blink back the tears and take a couple of deep breaths to steady myself before I lose whatever control I have left of my emotions. "Have it your way then, Uncle Leo. Fine, don't tell me anything! Keep me in the dark, like what you've been doing for the past 13 years now. I'm sure I can keep on living like a fugitive, forever on the run." I turn on my feet and head towards the airlock.

"Nate, where do you think you're going?" Uncle Leo calls out from behind me.

I ignore him and disengage the lock before the doors hiss open. I take a step outside and break into a run to where, I don't even know. But just as long as it gets me as far away from that damned turian and all his secrets and lies. For God's sake, I just need some time alone right now.

"Nate, come back here! Nate, you listen to me now and come back here this instant!" He pleads more desperately this time but his voice starts to fade as I distance myself further and further away from the Vanguard. Not once do I think of looking back.

I make a break straight for the traffic of pedestrians at the main walkway of the spaceport and melt seamlessly into the crowd, without thinking to watch where I'm going. Blinded by anger, I don't even care as to where I end up; I'll just keep on running and running until my legs give out on me. And even then, I'll run some more; anything it takes to keep me from ever going back to that stupid turian. If he won't give me the answers, then I'll just have to find it out for myself.

"Nathaniel Sunderland! Where are you? Please don't do this to me, Nate! Just come back! Nate! Come back!" Through the rush of blood in my ears, I hear his voice frantically searching for me in the crowd but pay it no heed. I'm on my own now.

* * *

Omega. Just what kind of place is this? I turn down yet another one of the space station's labyrinthine network of districts, only to be greeted by the same sights and sounds that come to define Omega. Run-down, seedy alleyways that teem with violence and crime just waiting to occur at every corner; residents that seem to personify all manner of lowlifes and shady individuals; the chaotic disarray of the entire space station as people construct their buildings as they please, most of them structurally-unsound and an eyesore; polluted air rank with the vices of its denizens, this whole damn place is an absolute opposite of the Citadel. Truth be told, I'm starting to feel a bit afraid of my safety.

I can't remember just how long I've been walking ever since leaving the spacestation. I think I might've walked out during the station's night cycle as a heavy veil of orange clings onto the night sky, no doubt refracted light from the smog-choked air. What may only be minutes feels like hours to me, although the argument with Uncle Leo's still fresh in my mind. Having had some time to clear my head from the haze of anger that clouded it, I'm starting to feel a little bad for having walked out on Uncle Leo like that. But just remembering the fallout wipes all traces of regret from my conscience and I stomp onwards. The initial wave of anger's ebbed away now, leaving in its stead a tightness in my chest.

At another intersection up ahead (God, the whole place's full of them), I hang a left and find myself in an entertainment district of sorts. Buildings with barely-functioning holographic billboards occupy the entire length of the street and just like the rest of Omega, the whole place is run-down and squalid, even worse than that of the seediest red light districts back on Earth. But ugh, the smell! Mingled in with the acrid taste of the smoky air, the earthy stench of puke and alcohol burns through my nostrils. I make my way down the main concourse, shrugging off the creepy looks that some passers-by are giving me as though they're sizing me up. I glare back at some of them, although it probably wouldn't be the best of ideas if I had my head on straight.

A large gathering of bodies pressed up against one another on the sidewalk catches my attention and I sidle over to see what the commotion is all about. Having reached the outer ring of the crowd, I glance upwards at the building they're all converging at. Unlike the rest of the buildings, this one stands out in stark contrast. A massive cylindrical structure looms overhead, its walls dirty with the grime typical of Omega. Flashy, red neon lights encircle the various tiers of the structure and at its very apex, the only human words I recognize, 'The Underdome' is emblazoned on a holographic billboard flourished with sporadic bursts of flames. All in all, the building just literally screams trouble. And if that isn't clear enough, the throngs of people queuing up to get in are definitely the kinds that you'd encounter in a prison back home.

"When can we get in? I'm itching to place some bets on the winners tonight!" I hear a throaty voice from someone in the crowd.

"Yeah! These credits won't spend themselves! Let us in!" another uncouth voice rings out in affirmation.

"I heard that Ralak himself will be battling tonight's challenger. That should be interesting to watch," the flanging voice of a turian remarks.

"I'm more interested in seeing how they leave the ring once Ralak's done with them." The turian's companion, a malicious-looking salarian, guffaws deeply.

Okay, I've heard enough. Time to get out of here before I get caught up with whatever's going on behind those walls. I turn around to leave but find that a whole congregation of aliens behind me is blocking my way. Crap, since when did they get here and why the hell are there so many people? No sooner than I start to navigate my way through the densely-packed sea of bodies, I hear something from the front of the crowd that I've been dreading.

"The doors are open, boys!" Oh, _shit_.

The crowd takes on the will of a single entity and moves as one big roiling wave into the structure, with me caught in the middle of it all. It's hopeless trying to move against the living current of bodies rushing in the opposite direction. My feet suddenly lose their purchase of the ground and gripped by the throng of the congregation, I'm carried into the Underdome. I scrabble to find leverage to push against the crowd but my attempt proves to be in vain. Thinking I'd rather not risk getting trampled upon in the stampede, I just stop resisting and go with the flow.

Inside, pulsing strobe lights dance across the dimly-lit interior in accompaniment to the visceral pounding of trance music while the air is hot and oppressive with hundreds of people packed into the limited confines of the building. Once I'm in the central atrium of the structure, the crowd starts to noticeably thin out but that doesn't stop me from being bodily shoved against the railing of what looks down upon…a fighting ring? I sweep my gaze up and down the entire atrium. The place is one giant friggin' coliseum; multi-storied floors that fully encircle the fighting ring, a large display panel suspended in the centre that broadcasts the action occurring below, the boisterous cheers and jeers of the crowd craning their necks by the railings as they root for the combatants duking it out in the ring beneath me….Holy shit, this is an underground fight club!

I see two individuals down below: two turians mercilessly pummeling the hell out of each other. One catches a blow to the face and collapses to the floor. Then, the other casually saunters over….and stomps down on his opponent's face with a disgusting crunch, much to the crowd's delight. My eyes widen in disgust and I feel goosebumps running down my arms. Panic starts to set in as I realize I'm in way over my head. I force myself away from the railing and it takes me all of my self-restraint to prevent myself from barreling through the mass of bodies to get away from this nuthouse.

The low levels of light in this place make it hard to see where I'm going and the strobe lights only added to the feeling of disorientation. With the sweaty bodies of so many individuals pressed up against me, I start to feel nauseous and the air literally thinning before me which only added to my panic. In my desperation to get to those familiar archways I saw on my way in, I elbow aside a figure that's blocking my path. Wrong move.

"Hey!"

I feel a rough tug on my collar and I'm turned on my heels to stare into the four eyes of the person I must have elbowed. The batarian doesn't look too pleased and judging from the slightly unfocused gaze in those eyes of his, it looks like he's been drinking. Great, of all the places to start a fight with a drunk.

"Where do you think you're going, kid?" Still gripping my shirt, he leans his face towards mine. Ugh, I can even smell the alcohol in that breath of his.

"I'm just…I'm just about to leave actually," I reply meekly.

He releases his grip and bodily shoves me backwards. I bump against a table, sending glasses of liquor crashing onto the floor. The crowd takes notice of this and clears a space around us, all eyes intently fixed on this development. The air of the patron's revelry melts away into a tension-filled silence.

"Look, sir. I didn't quite see where I was going and I'm sorry that I bumped into you," I manage to stutter out.

"Sorry? After everything you've done, you think you can fix it with a simple apology? You humans think you can keep on pushing us around and not expect the consequences?" the batarian drunkenly rambles while gesturing to the patrons. "All because you're now the pets of the Council, you can run around the galaxy, taking away what's rightfully ours? Well, you know what I think about you filthy humans and the rest of your kind?" He lunges forward and clamps his hands around my throat. "I think it's about time for some payback."

The palpable tension is broken as one of the patrons shout out, "Bring the human kid to the ring then, Charn!"

Those words burn its implications into my brain and I claw away at his arm choking me while he considers this proposal. "You know what, that doesn't sound like a bad idea after all. Let the world see you humans for the weaklings that you all are!" He tosses me to the floor and before I'm able to recover, he forcibly manhandles me through the crowd. I see the railings of the atrium approaching and without warning, I'm hurled over the edge. A fleeting sensation of falling and then the cold hard floor rushes up to greet my back.

I hear the hard footfalls of Charn landing nearby and I scramble to my feet to get away from the batarian as fast as possible. My breaths are coming out in shallow gasps, and my heart's hammering in my chest as I take in the full scope of my surroundings. The expectant gazes of the multitudes of people above boring down on me and worse yet; the lust for bloodshed etched in the batarian's eyes all come crashing down on me .

"Wait, wait! This is all just a mistake! I'm not supposed to be in here –" but the crowd drowns me out.

"Looks like Charn has found himself a new challenger tonight, ladies and gentlemen!" A throaty voice booms out all across the atrium to the thunderous cheers of the crowd. The batarian sadistically grins at me while cracking his knuckles to make his point. "For all those hopefuls out there tonight, you'll get another shot at Ralak himself some other time!"

I look up and see myself; a frightened and confused human kid in way over his head, in the gigantic broadcast screen hanging in the air. The camera pans out to show the two of us in the ring below while the announcer's voice continues to rile up the crowd. "So, who is it that will come out standing after this match tonight? Will it be our very own Charn," the crowd erupts into frenzy, "or will it be this new human challenger?"

A salarian approaches and scans me over with his omni-tool before giving a nod of approval. "No signs of biotic amps or implants detected. Combatant is unarmed and qualified to fight."

"Well then, that settles it ladies and gentlemen! You know the rules, so we'll just get straight on to the good part. Are our fighters ready?"

Cold beads of sweat trickle down my forehead and I'm suspended in a state of disbelief. This can't be real; none of it is. I'm just your ordinary, everyday kid just trying to have an ordinary life. What the hell am I doing in an underground fight club? How the hell did I get myself into this mess in the first place? I distinctively hear the muted ringing of a bell that seems like a sound from another time and place that I'm not part of.

"FIGHT!"

The image of the batarian rushing towards me, intent on breaking every single bone in my body brings the world back into clear focus.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Thought I might switch up the action scenes a bit - by making it into a personal, one-on-one encounter that's a little more intimate. Seeing as how Omega's _the _epitome of the criminal underworld, I only suppose it's a logical leap that the spacestation has its own fair share of underground fighting rings. **

**Well then, I'll leave you readers off on this cliffhanger then. More to come next week as usual! Till then, toodles! **


	10. Beatdown

**Author's Notes: Wow, this past week has been one hell of a ride. E3 2012 blew by Los Angeles and I had the opportunity to be in attendance. Safe to say, it was one heck of an experience seeing as it's my first, and probably last, E3 ever. Three whole entire days of standing up for hours on end and getting hands-on time with some of the hottest upcoming releases definitely made for an awesome time! **

**Anyhoo, not to get sidetracked and all, I haven't forgotten about this fic of mine, so don't worry. So, I'm here just in time for another update to Mass Effect: Remnants! Enjoy~**

**As usual, Mass Effect is the sole intellectual property of Bioware and I own nothing of its wonderful cast of characters and universe. **

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 9 - Beatdown

Another night, another show to put up, and another chance to settle those debts with the Blue Suns. Tonight's no different, just another typical night like so many others before. The crowds are always the same, inebriated and loud; and the fighters, bloodthirsty and too eager to prove themselves. Even the initial thrills of these battles are starting to wear off.

Sometimes, I wonder just how many more of these mundane nights am I going to have to sit through? As much as I love the thrill of the fight, there's no longer any challenge in them. These young ones have no respect for their adversaries as worthy opponents anymore; they're just another obstacle to me and then, the cash prize. Honor's a thing of the past; there is no real victory to be had in defeating these guys. Even the finalists who make it through don't put up much of a fight. After two or three rounds in the ring, I'll be amazed if they're still standing on their own two feet.

The pre-event bouts are just about wrapping up, as the ring attendants unceremoniously drag away a turian who just had his skull crushed in by another one of his kind. This gets a small chuckle out of me. Bloody turians beating the hell out of each another this time around; oh, the irony. Hard to believe they'd even resort to using the genophage to get us to surrender in the first place when they look strong enough to even take us on headfirst.

"Ralak!"

A voice brings me out of my musings and I turn my head to face the source of it. Figures, it's Mirash as always. The familiar purple-hued skin, the slightly misshapen horns, and the unique splash of freckles that streak across his face in the manner of a crescent moon; it's Mirash all right. The bloody damn salarian pops up every single night to check in on me, no doubt trying to get an assessment of the fighters before he places his bets on them…..the conniving son of a bitch. I'll at least give him credit for even having the quad to bother me night after night though.

"Any thoughts on who you'd be up against at the end of the night?" he asks in that high-pitched tone of his, beady eyes blinking expectantly at my answer.

"Well that depends, salarian. Until I see who the challenger is, I don't really have much to say about it, now do I?" I growl back at him, annoyance evident in my tone.

"Oh well then…there he is!" he excitedly points down to the ring. I crane my neck forward to look beyond the railings to what Mirash is pointing at several stories below. "So, what do you think now?"

I forget about Mirash and the fact that I'm going to end up strangling him someday as the sight below piques my curiosity. I'm not about to get my hopes too high on this newcomer though, as by the time the fists start flying, they all devolve into caged animals let loose on each other's throats. And it all becomes one big flurry of unexciting and impersonal bloodshed. Nobody seems to fight with an air of grandeur or honor anymore. But what do I expect? It's fucking Omega after all. We're all animals trapped here on this shithole.

"What the hell?" I hear myself muttering under my breath.

A human kid? Probably not even a full-grown adult by their species' age yet; and already he's squaring off against Charn. The kid's either got a quad on him or he's simply just looking for a deathwish. But from the looks of it, it's neither one of those. Live as long as I have, and I can tell that the kid's just somebody caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Then, he frantically looks up; and that's when I see it in his enlarged face on the giant holo-screen. It's in his eyes. Those onyx-black eyes of his. That there's a gaze I thought I'd never see again. A thick veil of fear masking a quiet, assured sense of confidence; but beneath it, a fiery determination that just heralds great things to come for the kid.

"Ralak?" Mirash presses on, his face leaning uncomfortably close to mine.

I grunt in slight amusement. "Keep an eye on that human kid. There's just something about him that makes me think he'll come out on top."

"You sure? He looks like he won't even last a minute in there with Charn," the salarian raises one of his eyes skeptically at me.

"Trust me. With that kid in the ring tonight, I've got a feeling that things have just gotten a lot more interesting." I lean back into my chair, and for the first time in a long while, brim with anticipation at seeing how this first round will play out.

* * *

"Hold on a minute! This is all just a big misunderstanding!" I cry out, all the while backing away from the batarian lunging for me.

"Kid, I've had enough of you talking! Are you gonna fight or what?" Charn aims a wild hook at me which I narrowly duck under.

"I don't want to be fighting anyone! Look, can we at least just talk this out?" I desperately plead, tears already blurring the edges of my vision.

"Talk?" the batarian scoffs, "Kid, you're done talking when you get down here in this ring!"

The crowd's already taking on a sour tone as jeering shouts of boos and insults reverberate throughout the atrium. No doubt they must be disappointed by the lack of action in the ring below. That one moment of inattention to the batarian in front of me is all it costs for him to draw first blood. His fist connects with my jaw and the force of the impact sends stars bursting into my vision. I roll with the punch and collapse to the floor. I hear triumphant cheers from the crowd as I try to blink my sight back into focus.

"Get up, kid! I'm just getting started," Charn circles over me like a bird of prey.

"Damnit, just listen to me! I don't want to fight anyone!" But even as I speak those words, I get the feeling that I should just save my breath. After that first punch, the reality sinks in that this one's a situation I don't think I'll be able to talk my way out of. Better to let my fists do the talking then.

"Do you humans even know when to shut up and fight?" He delivers a kick to my stomach, effectively knocking the wind of out me as I writhe around on the floor in pain. "Had enough? I know some humans who can stand more of a punishment than you can! If you're not one of them, so what are you?" he arrogantly jeers.

Somehow, that taunt of his triggers something within me. What am I? Well, it's a question I've been asking myself for the past 13 years…only to be kept in the dark_._ I slowly stagger to my feet, anger slowly brewing in the recesses of my mind. The argument with Uncle Leo returns with sharp clarity and the frustration at being stonewalled again wells up within me. I clench my fists, as this new wave of emotion washing through me eats away at the initial fear and apprehension.

"That's right, kid. Get up so I can put you down again like the varrens you humans are!" Charn drunkenly yells. Biting back the pain, I get up and ease myself into a fighting stance like how I'm hardwired to during those bouts of practice spars at the martial arts studio. "Oh, so now the human kid's going to fight back? I'll be more than happy to oblige." He grins, showing a row of malicious-looking teeth.

"Look who's the one not shutting up now," I stoically reply.

Those four eyes of his do a double take and he growls menacingly at me. In a matter of moments, he lunges at me. Anticipating this, I sidestep his advance; throw a straight into his gut before following up with an uppercut to his face. I throw the full weight of my body behind those punches and boy, does it feel good when they find their mark.

The batarian grunts in pain as he reels back from the blows. Thank God he's been drinking before this. Sure, the alcohol's gonna dull the pain somewhat; but in that inebriated state, his technique's clumsy, disjointed and all over the place. In short, the odds of this fight are looking good.

I immediately retreat a few paces back to put a comfortable distance between myself and my opponent. My midsection's still a bit sore from that kick of his and I'm trying to buy myself some time to recover from it. However, with that trading of blows, the initial panic is dissolving away as I feel a surge of newfound confidence coursing through me. Hello, adrenaline.

"Hmph, not bad, human. Now, it's time I got serious too." Charn spits out what I think is a bloody tooth and turns to face me.

Within the blink of an eye, he materializes right in front of me. Holy shit! How can he move that fast when he's that drunk? With no time to duck that incoming left hook, I deflect it followed by another as he continues to rain down a flurry of blows on me. Damn, he's really putting a lot of weight into those swings of his – giving up speed and precision over power. All the better for me just so long as I can dodge most of them. Nevertheless, I get sloppy and a gut punch finds its way home. I stumble slightly backwards with the wind knocked out of me. From the corner of my eye, I see him pulling back into a haymaker which I barely duck under. I counter back with a sweep kick and through sheer stroke of luck, I swipe his feet out from under him. The batarian collapses unceremoniously to the floor to the jeers of the crowd above us.

Sensing a quick respite, I take the opportunity to back up and catch my breath. I clutch my sides, crippled by the pain. Shit, just because I thought I could take on some high school bullies doesn't mean that I'm cut out for some underground street brawl.

"Okay, don't panic. Keep a level head, and read his moves. Stay one step ahead and look for an opening," I mutter to myself while taking deep breaths to calm my nerves.

"GRAGHH!" The batarian picks himself off the ground and just bum rushes for me, throwing a wild hook. I grip his outstretched arm, pivot my back to lift his body off the ground and slam him onto the concrete with a deft shoulder toss. Again, I retreat several steps away, taking care not to lose the momentum. Already, I can feel the flow of the fight turning in my favor and that makes the searing pain in my sides somewhat more manageable.

"Come on! Is that all you got?" I taunt at him, noting that the batarian's clearly starting to get worked up. Good, nothing equals getting your ass handed to you more than your judgment being clouded by blind rage. "Aww… is the human kid too much for you to handle?"

Charn clambers unsteadily to his feet and once he's reoriented himself, he makes a beeline for me like a mad bull. Seeing that move from a mile away, I bounce away on the balls of my feet and elbow him in the stomach, throwing in a gut-kick for good measure. He collapses onto the floor; the cocky, alcohol-fueled arrogance definitely gone. But I think I might have gotten a bit too overconfident as well; I linger a bit too closely to him and all of a sudden, his arm darts out and yanks my leg. No sooner than I topple to the floor, he's already on top, throttling the life out of me.

Fuck! I can't breathe! With one arm pinned over my windpipe, and another one raised to pummel my face in, Charn's left me with no room to maneuver. With instincts just kicking in, I knee him in the groin and that's enough for him to let go. I waste no time in throwing a right hook to his face and then kicking him off. I immediately bounce back onto my feet and take several hasty steps back. Shit, I need to end this fast. That last one was _way_ too close.

"You….filthy humans…." Charn mutters through gritted teeth. "Always thinking you're better than all of us."

Seeing just what a miserable state I've pummeled him into, a slight pang of guilt gnaws at me but it's hard to feel sorry for someone who's just tried to kill you. "Dude, you brought this on yourself. So are you gonna finish this or what?"

"Just…shut up! You….useless scums!" Already teetering on his feet, Charn makes a final, desperate lunge at me.

No use dragging this out any longer. I flow right under him, landing a palm strike into his midsection that stops him in his tracks before throwing a high kick into his face, following up with a roundhouse and finally channeling the built-up momentum into a drop kick that sends him flying through the air.

Charn hits the floor with an audible thud, and his body remains motionless. The crowd is stunned into silence but a sporadic cheer is heard and then some more, and before long, the cry of jubilation spreads throughout the atrium like wildfire. Breathing heavily, I get up off the ground and only then does my brain start to register the facts of what I've just done. Holy shit, did I just beat a hardened criminal into a senseless pulp? _Damn_.

Numb with disbelief, my body goes on auto pilot as I stagger to the exit of the ring. The roars of the crowd are nothing but gray noise to my ears and the pain from the sustained injuries feels oddly displaced; as though they belong to another time and person entirely. As I approach what I presume to be exit, I'm rudely shoved back into the ring by the very same salarian that scanned me with the omnitool from before.

"What the hell? I won that stupid fight of yours, so I'm leaving!"

All he does in reply is point a finger over my shoulder and I turn around. _Crap_. The respite is short-lived as another turian vaults into the ring, just spoiling for a go with me. Ah…shit. So these fights are ladder matches but come on, at least cut me a break here! Would five minutes for me to catch my breath be so hard?

"Well then ladies and gentlemen, I declare to you your winner by a shock defeat of Charn, Nathaniel Sunderland!" the announcer booms out again. Wait what? How does he know my name? The question's wiped out of my head as the announcer continues, "Looks like things are definitely heating up tonight! Who's up for some more?" and to this query of his, the crowd goes absolutely wild. "I knew you'd said that, so let's get Round 2 started! Squaring off against our very own Karyllov, let's see how our new challenger holds up to this battle-hardened turian!"

Oh, you have got to be kidding me. I was only barely able to take down Charn by pure luck alone, and that's when I was going into the fight all fresh and full of stamina. Now, after that bout with the batarian, I'm bruised, bloodied and fatigued. How the hell am I even going to stand a chance against a well-trained and experienced turian military vet?

"Look, I've already indulged you all in your little games so just let me go already!" I plead to nobody in particular while turning my attention to the giant holo-screen.

"Kid, let me just tell you that the only way you're getting out of here is either as a man who wins it all or in a body bag. Your choice," the turian named Karyllov bares his rows of teeth at me menacingly.

"Listen, I'm just someone who's here in the wrong time and in the wrong place. I didn't ask for any of this, so just please, let me go already. I don't want to fight anymore! For God's sakes, can't you all see that I'm just a kid in way over his head?" At this point, I'm spent and hurting badly from that initial tussle with Charn that all I care about is getting out of this living nightmare and back to Uncle Leo. Unfortunately, it's a nightmare that I won't be waking up from any time soon, and the reality of it drops as a cold, deathly weight into the pit of my stomach.

Holding back the tears, I turn back towards the exit and just as I'm about to elbow my way through, I gaze down upon the barrel of a gun pointed at me by the salarian. He motions for me to get back into the ring. That's when fear reaches a flashpoint but no sooner than I start to turn around, I feel a sharp pain in my legs. Before I know it, I'm kicked down onto my knees and a solid tug on my collar throws me right into the centre of the ring again.

I hit the ground in a disconcerted mess. "What the hell…?" That's when I see the soles of a foot crashing down on me. Giving in to basic instincts, I just roll out of the way and struggle frantically to my feet.

"So, have you made your choice yet, kid?" the turian sneers at me while he sizes me up.

"I…." I'm barely able to get a word in reply before he lunges towards me, unleashing a flurry of blows. Try as I might, there's no way my form of martial arts can match that of Karyllov's military combat style. His strikes are deft and precise, each of them meticulously calculated and thrown to inflict as much damage as possible. I do my best to deflect and dodge the punches and kicks but in my already weakened state, there's only so much I can do. Often, I lose the rhythm and a blow throws me off my game to which the turian mercilessly follows up with a series of pummeling strikes.

Every time a punch hits home, the agony is followed by fleeting visions of those ominous dreams I've been having. Each time, a snapshot of those behemoths flashes into my vision and for some reason, I just start to feel some sort of pressure building at the base of my neck. A wicked right hook lands its mark on my jaw and the whole world explodes into searing, red-hot pain and a more vivid vision of the intergalactic annihilation ensues. Next thing I know, I'm staring down at the dusty floor of the ring while I try to blink my vision back into focus. "Fuck…."

"Just because you bested Charn, you thought you could quit and call it a day. Did you think I was that unworthy of an opponent?" Karyllov grabs a tuftful of my hair and yanks me up. "Well look at you now, not so high and mighty after all, are you?"

"Dammit! Let go of me!" I weakly claw away at his arm.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy making you scream, kid. I haven't had this much fun in a while, beating an arrogant little punk who thinks he's got something to prove in the Underdome. But you put up a good fight, I'll give you that much. Too bad this fight's going to be your last," he smirks before rearing his leg back to knee my face in.

I see what's about to happen in perfect clarity and as soon as the thought registers in my head, the mounting pressure just coalesces into a weird sensation of static electricity crackling at the base of my neck. Unconsciously, I just seize upon that sudden weird feeling, tap into the energy that suddenly courses through me and push out with my mind.

Suddenly, the turian just freezes in his place, a faint aura of blue enveloping him. "What the…."

I waste no time to break his grip on me, grab the lapels of his shirt, throw my entire weight back and perform a sacrifice throw. He soars over me, a look of clear surprise etched on his face and tumbles to the ground.

"What the hell are you up to, kid?" Karyllov springs back onto his feet, unfazed by the fall. "You just got lucky that time but no more! I'm done playing games with you!" he growls.

I wish I had an answer for him, but I'm just as clueless as he is. What just happened? But I can't even think straight anymore. My brain's close to shutting down from the crippling pain and it's torture to even be standing upright. At any rate, I don't think I'm going to be able to make it out of this alive. The surge of fear from before is gone now as I've finally come to accept the fact that this is it for me.

_Uncle Leo, I'm so, so sorry. _Sadness and regret wells up within me at the thought of him and the way we ended our last conversation.

Too tired to even move, I can only helplessly watch as the fist aimed straight for me collides into my stomach. Then, Karyllov throws another vicious hook into my face, and then another, it doesn't stop. Barely feeling the bruises and the blood streaming down my face, I already stand on the brink of consciousness. Yet somehow, I'm still standing and breathing.

"Why….won't….you….just…..go….down….already!" Karyllov grunts as he takes swing after swing at me.

I let him pummel the crap out of me, already having lost the will to fight back.

Despite that, a fleeting image of Uncle Leo weaves its way into my head and this just reignites a small shred of hope within me. I cling tightly to this thought and try desperately to bring forth the emotions that it entails. Bit by bit, I run through snapshots of my life with Uncle Leo thus far: the highs that we shared in, the lows that we persevered through. And I realize just how much there is that I've left unsaid to him; that there's just so much I've yet to repay him back for. I don't intend to let things end this way.

"Not here…not now…" I mumble under my breath.

The turian pauses briefly mid-punch. "What's that? Finally giving up? Now why in spirit's name would you want to do that? You're only going to be dead soon," Karyllov gives a rude chuckle in between his pants for air.

"I can't give up now, not for Uncle Leo's sake. I need – no, I _want_ to see him again." As I enunciate each word, I feel strength returning to me. Empowered with new-found vigor and purpose, I resolve to put all my weight into this one punch that's going to end this stupid fight even though I doubt one blow's going to make a difference after seeing just how tough the turian is.

The turian draws back for the coup de grace and throws a haymaker, "Well then, this is it for you – what the?"

No longer paying much attention to rational thought and basic martial arts principles, I catch his outstretched talons in my bloodied hands. Gritting my teeth with effort, I hold him there, long enough to lock eyes with him.

"I'm not giving up to someone like you."

I drive my right fist forward into his jaw, willing all the strength I have left into that one deciding punch. The effect was explosive, to say the least.

Karyllov catches the brunt of the blow head-on, my arm enveloped again in that familiar blue aura. In that one split second, I feel the sickening crunch of his faceplates shattering under the force, and then as time resumes its normal passage, he's literally sent flying across the _entire_ length of the ring into the opposite wall. He smashes into the wall, leaving behind a large network of fissures on the concrete and slides off of it.

I look on in wide-eyed shock at what just transpired. What the hell did I just do? And the stunned audience shares my sentiments too, at least for the first few moments before they break out into raucous applause again.

By this point, I'm already drifting in and out of consciousness. I can't take it anymore and I just collapse to my knees on the floor. The only thing keeping me from blacking out is the fact that I need to get myself as far away from this madhouse as possible. I cough out mouthfuls of blood-addled spit and the exertion sends waves of pain rolling through me.

"Looks like…..still standing!...The moment of truth…Jorgal Ralak!...Winner takes all…" is all that I manage to catch of the announcer.

Through the pounding of blood in my ears, I can sense that the crowd's reaching a peak of frenzy but for what? I'd rather not stay and find out. I pull myself upright, but the pain's just too much to bear and I fall to the ground again.

A reverberating thud of something landing in the arena, and then I hear heavy footfalls making their way across the arena floor towards me. I can barely make out the figure in front of me through the blood and the bruised eye. But when I do, I'm surprised at the fact that I can still feel frustration boiling in me, instead of fear as I stare down the massive bulk of a 7-foot tall krogan in front of me.

I let out a humorless laugh, wincing at the jolts of pain stabbing through me. "I can't believe you guys. What's with all this ladder match bullshit and pitting fighters in a non-stop brawl after another?" I croak out in between pained gasps for air. "You're all fucking cowards, that's what I think! Hide behind a few guys and pray that they tire him out a bit before you get to beating the crap out of him? Is that what passes for good fights to you people around here? It's pathetic."

The krogan just stands there motionless, his stony reptilian features betraying no emotions whatsoever. Through my bloodied vision and the pounding throb of pain in my head, I can only make out several of my adversary's distinguishing features. The krogan's dark-yellow crest above his head is chipped and battered in various places. I even manage to catch a glimpse of what must be a locket hung around that thick neck of his. But he strides towards me and I feed off the anger to help me get to my feet so that I can at least stand up to face him. Wow, rage's one hell of an anesthetic.

"Now look here human," his blood-red eyes pierce into mine, "you get this through that stubborn head of yours. I may look like it, but I don't run this show. I'm just the same as you are; another pawn in one of the boss's games. So you do what you're expected of and maybe the boss will let one of us walk away from this alive." He holds me in that steely gaze, his face nearly meeting mine. "Now I don't know about you, but I'm of the disposition to not piss the boss off and live to see another day. It's either you or me, kid. Trust me when I say it's nothing personal, it's just how things work on Omega."

"What..?" I ask in disbelief. "You people drag me in here against my will….force me to fend for myself against lunatics who want to kill me…..all so that you can keep your boss happy? Just what kind of sick people are you?" I only manage to hoarsely scream out. Suddenly, everything about this place I find repulsive and disgusting. As the seconds tick by, my rage wells up to the point I'm having difficulty even keeping it in check. Oh, what I would do to just punch that stony, cold expression off that krogan's face. "Fuck this, fuck you and your boss! I'm leaving and there's nothing you can do to stop me!"

I must be worse off than I think because I swear that I just saw an expression of pity reflected in those eyes of his. Regardless, I make my way for the exit and no sooner than I turn my back to Ralak, he grabs my shoulders and turns me around. The crest of his head plate bores down on me in a headbutt, sending me reeling back. Along with the mind-numbing pain, the vision of those Reapers comes back again in full focus and intensity. That, and coupled with the fact that I virtually inch on the verge of death, a trigger just kind of goes off within me.

"ENOUGH!"

A tremendous aura of energy flares up in both the palms of my hand and I just lash out at the nearest target I can see and everything in its vicinity. A vicious shockwave of some sort tear through the air in front of me, sending Ralak stumbling backwards while the supporting base pillars of the atrium behind him creak and crumble under the sheer magnitude of the force. Before he's able to even regain his balance, I lash out once more, directing that very invisible wall of force sweeping over everything in my line of sight. This time, I see the shockwave materializing in the form of a forward arc of detonating energy.

The weakened pillars finally give way under the atrium's whole weight. Fissures snake across the support structures and a loud, metallic groan reverberates throughout the atrium. Suddenly, a section of the whole building comes crashing down in a cloud of dust and debris, followed by subsequent floors toppling on top of one another in a jarring cacophony of destruction. The crowd disperses in panic, fleeing from the collapsing portion of the building. The avalanche of rubble lasts what must seem like a lifetime and before I know it, the towering walls of the atrium is almost cleaved in half to reveal a view of night-time Omega.

My senses return to me and I've never felt so tired before in my entire life. Spent from the physical abuse and no longer able to feel any of my limbs, I let the world disappear from under my feet.

* * *

**Author's Notes: And there you have it, some good old fisticuffs to change things up a bit. Until then, stay tuned for next week's update!**

** And once again, thanks to you guys for faithfully sticking with this fic. It's not the best bit of story writing out there but it's definitely given me an opportunity to improve on my writing. **

**I'll see you all next week! Toodles~ **


	11. Another Typical Night in Omega

**Author's Notes: Well, I'm back again with another update to Mass Effect: Remnants! I know there was already an action-sequence in the previous chapter, but I decided, hey why not give the fans another one? I know that all out-bursts of action sequences chapter after chapter can get a little boring but rest assure, there'll be non-action-centric chapters too. **

**I plan to mix things up a bit to keep things from going stale, rather than stick to a predictable formula of having an action-centric chapter, followed by a chapter centered on character interaction and stuff like that. **

**Well then, not to bore you with too much details, Chapter 10 ladies and gentlemen! **

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 10 - Another Typical Night in Omega

It's times like these when I hate myself for being right. Just who the hell is this human kid anyway? I grunt in effort as I struggle to lift a metal beam off of me. With that out of the way, I slowly claw my way out of the rubble that I'm buried in. A thick haze of dust hangs in the air, illuminated by the orange hue of Omega's nightlife that's spilling into the atrium from where its walls collapsed. I can literally feel my one of my two hearts skip a beat at the very sight of physical destruction before me. Again, just _who the hell_ _is this human kid_?

The atrium's literally empty now although I can see a few vorchas combing over the upper levels, no doubt looting the place for any valuables that the patrons must have left behind in their mad dash for the exit. Dusting myself off, I make my way to the center of the atrium where the prone body of the human is sprawled. I doubt if he's going to be an immediate danger given his current state.

I flip him over onto his back to have a better look at this person who single-handedly brought a whole building down with sheer biotics alone. What's more interesting is the fact that he doesn't even have an amp, so how in the world did he generate a biotic field strong enough to tear through tons of metal and concrete?

"Hey kid, wake up. Can you hear me? Wake up," I give him a little shake but his head just lolls limply.

Don't know much about human physiology though but I can at least tell that's he alive, only just barely. He seems to be breathing, if the rise and fall of his chest is any indication. Given the punishment that's been dished out to him over the course of the fight and the strenuous effort that it must have taken him to conjure those biotics, I'm surprised that he's not dead yet. Guess the humans aren't as weak as they look.

"Looks like you have a quad on you after all, kid," I smirk.

The sound of primed firearms rings out from over my back and I turn around to face a squadron of Blue Sun mercs training their assault rifles on me. I must really be losing my touch if I didn't notice them sneaking up on me. One of them, a familiar-looking batarian, steps forward towards me.

"Tarak…So what is it that you want from me this time?" I growl at him.

"You know perfectly why I'm here, Ralak," he coolly replies, all four of his steely eyes meeting mine.

"I'm only doing what Vido wants from me as payment for the credits I owe the Blue Suns so I don't seem to see what the problem is."

"You don't see what the problem is?" he scoffs. "Take a look around you," he motions to the collapsed atrium behind him, "and tell me if _that's _not a problem."

"You bring some of the galaxy's most psychotic and blood-thirsty individuals to duke it out among each other and you know things like these are bound to happen. That," I point to the gaping hole in the atrium walls, "is all part of the cost of operations."

"No, paying these fighters the prize money and keeping the drinks flowing are what you call cost of operations! Bringing an entire building to the ground most definitely _does not_ fall under that!" he raises his voice. "How do you expect us to run a profitable business if we have to keep on spending credits on rebuilding every single building that gets damaged every single night?"

"Then maybe you should have thought of that before staging all those fights in this flimsy little shack of yours, Tarak," I retort.

"Okay, I've had enough with this nonsense," he gestures dismissively. "Now tell me just what exactly is it that you're trying to pull this time, Ralak. Another one of your ingenious schemes to get out of your debts to us?"

I sigh, fast losing my patience. "Look Tarak, I promise you that I have absolutely nothing to do with this whatsoever. If you Blue Suns did a better job at screening your fighters, this wouldn't have happened at all."

"So now it's our fault? Would you care as to elaborate then?" Tarak shoots back.

"All I know is that it all started out as another normal night before Charn throws in this fresh-faced human kid into the ring."

"You mean that kid lying over there?" his eyes appraise the figure on the ground.

"Exactly. So Charn picks the wrong person to mess with and the kid just beats the hell out of his sorry ass," I can't help but grin slightly at the memory. That batarian finally got what he deserved. I continue on, paraphrasing as much as possible so I can get this crap with Jentha done and over with, "Karyllov hops in next but the kid throws just this one punch and sends him flying across the ring. Knocks the damn turian out. Might have even broken a few bones or two–"

"Wait," Tarak stops me mid-sentence. "You're expecting me to believe that this…boy over here went face-to-face with Karyllov and won?" he raises his eyes in skepticism. "And that he knocked him out with just _one_ punch?"

Another sigh. Is he even fucking paying attention? "Doubt it as much as you want but that's exactly how it went. He was pretty riled up when I got to him, started spewing out crap like how we're being unfair and all. Hah! Where the hell does he think he is, the Citadel?" I thought of adding in the part where I start reasoning with him but I decide against it; no use in giving Tarak a reason to suspect me even more. "And now, if only your people did a more thorough scans for biotics, we wouldn't be standing knee-deep in our current predicament," I add with a tone of finality.

"What? Impossible! There's no way a biotic could make it pass our scans!" he replies incredulously. "They'd have picked up the amps for sure!"

"As you can see, your men most certainly didn't," I gesture at the debris lying behind me

"Crap." Tarak rubs his temples while his eyes wander around the collapsed section of the atrium. He lets out a deep sigh, "So, you're saying that this kid's biotics did all of this? Holy shit….Vido's not gonna like this."

"So there you have it. Now, if there's nothing else, can I get going? I'm just wasting my time sticking around here. There's a bottle of ryncol back home that has my name on it and I'll be there until you Blue Suns sort this mess out," I reply, the impatience clearly evident in my voice.

"Not quite, you're coming with us. I'm sure Vido will be interested in talking to you….and the boy."

"What?" I let out a menacing growl only to have the mercs' guns respond in kind at me.

"I know how tough you krogans can be, but I'd rather that you cooperate with us. As much as I want to see how a krogan can stand up to a hail of point-blank assault rifle fire, you're of no use to us riddled with bullets." Tarak turns on her heels to the exit. "Alright men, let's move out! Oh, and be careful with the boy. Vido will want to have him in one piece; he's barely holding together as it is. "

* * *

"Hey…..kid…..wake….up"

A dull sensation in my left arm stirs my consciousness back into being. Am I dead yet? I think I must be; I don't even feel as though I have a body to call my own anymore, just these wordless thoughts and musings running through my head. At this point, I'm too far gone to even tell where the dreams end and where the waking world begins. Dammit, my mind's all just a mess right now. A jostling in my left arm, as if someone's gently tugging at it brings my thoughts back into focus. I can only weakly grunt in reply.

"That's it, come on, don't black out on me now."

An intelligible voice emerges from the veil of white noise that clings stubbornly in my ears. My first instinct is to just hold onto the voice and follow its trail out of this limbo. Slowly but surely, I feel myself breaking through the cocoons of unconsciousness that threatens to overwhelm me again.

That was a bad mistake on my part. As I return into the waking world, waves of pain come crashing over every single part of my body imaginable. If pain could be made into a tangible material, I swear that somebody just dumped a whole bucketful of it all over me. I can feel my face contorting in agony and my limbs stiffening up in response to the searing pain.

An exasperated sigh, "I forgot just how frail you humans can be sometimes. Here, hold still. This will probably help." I hear a shuffling of sorts, a prick in my skin and then feel the warm sensation of pharmaceuticals being administered.

The relief of pain emanates from the site of administration throughout my entire body. Soon enough, the pain starts to slowly dissipate and I feel the muscles in my limbs gradually unclenching themselves. Eventually, sensation returns into my arms and legs although dull stabs of pain will occasionally shoot through them if I so much as tried to move them. Feeling well enough to muster the strength needed to open my eyes, I'm greeted by grey, dilapidated walls on all four corners of the room I find myself in. The musky, unpleasant stench of the bowels of Omega assaults my nostrils soon after.

I gag and almost throw up but manage to hold it in, only barely. This earns an amused grunt from someone next to me.

"Good to see that you're finally awake. Guess the medi-gel worked," a familiar krogan turns his gaze to me.

It takes me a while to piece the puzzles together and when the realization dawns upon me, I feel my blood go cold. Shit, it's Ralak.

I back away from him as fast as possible, much to the protest of my aching limbs. But I'm only able to get so far before my left wrist catches on something and sends me stumbling to the ground.

"Run as far away from me as you want, kid. You're not going anywhere. You see these things?" he holds up his right hand or talons or whatever it is to illustrate his point. Some sort of sturdy-looking cufflinks binds his wrist and the other end trails to mine….shit, we're both handcuffed to one another. I guess Ralak must have caught the incredulous look on my face. "I don't like it either but the both of us don't have much of a choice," he says, not the least bit fazed by the current turn of events.

Still a bit apprehensive of Ralak and his intentions, I open up my omni-tool as a thought leaps into my head. I punch up the communications display to contact Uncle Leo only to have static greeting me in kind. I try several more times for Nazreil's instead but the results are the same.

"Don't bother kid, the Blue Suns must have set up scramblers to prevent any external communications from being broadcasted or received," Ralak comments after several of my attempts prove unsuccessful.

Too tired to even put up much of a resistance, I resignedly accept the fact that I'm trapped here in this dank and dark room. Screw whatever it is that these people or the krogan have in mind for me. I can hardly even bring myself to care about them anymore, not in the state I'm in. All I want is to just be able to get back to Uncle Leo – to return home. So I slump against the wall next to Ralak and bury my head in my knees. Letting all the exhaustion and emotion well up within me, I cry for the first time in a very long while.

Everything's just happening so fast; a few days ago I was just another ordinary kid trying to get through high school back on Earth. Between there and now, I'm just swept up in a series of events that I barely even have a grasp on. First, I'm forcibly torn out of the only life I've ever known on Earth, and then I step foot on the Citadel. Sure, the Citadel was an awesome place until the bullets starting flying. After that, we barely get off the spacestation alive and somehow I find myself trapped here in this nondescript storage room in a little hellhole called Omega.

"Huh," the krogan remarks. "To be honest, this isn't what I'd expect from someone who lasted as long as he did in the ring there tonight."

I raise my still-bloodied and tear-streaked face to meet his. "Look at me! I'm just an innocent 17 year old kid who's gotten into something way over his head. I don't even belong here! What _did _you expect?"

"Heh, I thought as much," the krogan just muses over something as he absently stares at the wall in front of him.

"What?"

"Look kid, you be thankful that you're still alive and breathing. I've seen people like you before who're just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and most of them don't usually walk away with their lives.

"I, uh…..I'm not sure I follow."

Ralak lets out an annoyed growl. "All I'm saying is that Omega's a place that will get you killed, if you don't know your way around. And judging by what I've seen so far, you're definitely new here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but –"

"But what I'm more curious to know about is where you learnt to fight like that. That, and how you managed to conjure a biotic field without an amp on you."

"Biotics? Just what are you talking about –"

"Don't play dumb with me kid. You're not from around here and yet you managed to take down 2 of Omega's best brawlers. How do you explain that?" Ralak fixes a questioning stare on me.

"I….." Truth be told, I'm just a dumbfounded as he is. What I did back there, even I don't know what brought it all on.

"Well?"

"Honestly, I don't even know," I can only weakly reply as I wipe the tears off of my face. I inspect the palms of my hand, hoping that they held the answer to how I even conjured these 'biotics' in the first place. "Speaking of which, just what exactly are 'biotics'? I've never heard of them before."

Ralak lets out an incredulous grunt. "You've got to be kidding right? Look kid, I can't tell if you're just faking it or being really stupid about it."

"Huh…what?"

"You remember how you brought down the whole atrium with that little display of yours?"

I strain to recall that memory which felt like it happened ages ago. But I do remember that pulsating sensation of energy coursing through me and how I lashed out with it. "Oh.."

Ralak only grunts with what I think must be affirmation. "In any case, I suggest we find a way to get out of here quick."

"Why's that?"

The krogan lets out a menacing growl of annoyance. "Kid, I'm gonna try to be patient with you for as long as possible because I know you're not from around here, so you clearly don't know how things are on Omega. But right now, we're being taken to go see the guy who runs the Blue Suns here on this hellhole. And if you have any idea on who he is at all, you can bet your ass that meeting him won't bode well for the both of us."

Given the unsavory character of just about everyone here on Omega, I can only assume that a guy in charge of this whole operation like Tarak wouldn't be all sunshine and roses. "Alright, so what do you suggest we do?"

"We sneak our way out. If it comes down to it, we're probably going to need to kill some of these mercs," Ralak replies bluntly.

I gulp, finally realizing the predicament of the situation. But still, what other choice do I have? Ralak's my only way out and I'll be damned if I rot to death in a hole like this. "So what's the plan?"

He takes a look around the room, contemplates our options before finally speaking up. "I don't have a hacking module to get the door open so we'll just have to wait for the guards to show up and bring us out."

"What do we do about the guards then?"

This earns me another annoyed growl. "What do you think? We overpower them, knock them out cold or just plain get rid of them, whatever it is that you prefer. And then, we get ourselves out of these stupid cuffs and get the hell out of here."

"Okay, it's not the best of plans, but it's the only one we've got so far. Well then, I'll follow your lead."

"Let's just hope that Jentha decides not to send her whole squad down for us. Things _will_ get messy," Ralak says almost nonchalantly.

I just let that comment of his slide, not wanting to think about the gruesome fates that it would entail for those unlucky enough to get stuck with escorting us to Tarak. I struggle to sit upright but my aching body refuses to obey without a fight. At least the stuff that Ralak had administered to me is quelling the pain somewhat.

"You're not going to mess this up are you?" the krogan asks me, more annoyed than concerned with my well-being. "Because we've only got one shot at this. Screw this up, and you can kiss your sorry human ass goodbye when you finally meet Tarak."

"No, I'm good. Don't worry about me; I just need some time to psyche myself up." I reply through gritted teeth, trying not to show any visible signs of pain. Holy shit, do I really need to hurt these people? It's either them or me, I guess.

"Well, whatever it is that you need to do, just do it quick. I have a feeling that it won't be long now before they march on in through that door." Ralak motions to the set of locked doors directly opposite the room.

Minutes go by and I tense up, waiting for that moment to spring our escape. However, as minutes drag into what must seem like an hour, there doesn't seem to be any signs of our captors approaching. Gah, if Tarak doesn't kill me, the suspense will. However, after quite some time, I finally hear footfalls nearing the door.

"I don't suppose you could do to them what you did to the atrium, could you?" Ralak quips. "Now, just stay calm and wait for these bastards to get near enough before we get the drop on them, okay?"

Focusing on what I'm about to do next, I only nod my affirmation as I take deep breaths to calm my nerves. The red door display turns green and the door parts to reveal four armed guards all decked out in their Blue Suns armor. I gulp a little, realizing that the odds might just be _slightly_ against us. Ralak doesn't seem troubled by their numbers at all, which unsettles me even more.

"Alright then, let's get the two of you moving! Tarak doesn't have all day, so move it!" one of the guards, a batarian, shoves his assault rifle into Ralak's face. I can tell from the glint in the krogan's eyes that he's about to introduce that guard into a whole world of pain.

Within a split second, Ralak brutally headbutts the guy and sends him reeling back. Blood just seemed to fly everywhere. Wasting no time, I knee the turian guard closest to me in his gut as he brings his shotgun upwards to fire on Ralak. I knock the wind out of him and kick the gun out of his hands. The physical exertion proves too much for me as I slightly double over in pain. Shit, now's not the time! I can already see him reaching for his sidearm before Ralak comes into my view, bum rushing the poor guard into the wall. The two guards that he'd dispatched are lying on the floor, blood running down their faces.

"Holy crap. What did you just do to the two of them?" I motion to the two prone figures.

"I sang them to sleep. What else did you think I did?" Ralak replies sarcastically. Ah, good to know he has a sense of humor at least. "Search the bodies and see if you can find the keys to open these cuffs!"

I do as I'm told, patting through the various pouches of their armor. I never realized how hard it is to do things like these with only one free hand. My search turns up empty. "I can't find it on these two over here. What about you?"

Ralak growls in frustration. "Nothing here either. Come on, these guys don't have the keys on them. They must be with someone else. Just grab their guns and let's go!" He scoops up a shotgun in his one free hand. I settle for just a pistol, seeing as it's the only thing I can fire one-handed and I thank God they didn't cuff my right hand.

"Wait, why can't we just shoot these cuffs off?" I ask, puzzled.

"Kid, they make these things to withstand even a krogan going through a blood rage. Bullets aren't going to work on them and besides, the gunshots are only going to attract more attention."

Cuffed to one another, we move rather awkwardly to the threshold of the open doorway. Peering out into the narrow passageway of what I assume must be the lower levels of some building, we find no other guards in sight. "Good. It'll take them a while before they figure out we're missing," and with that said, Ralak sets off for a well-illuminated passage on our right. Biting back the pain of my injuries, I struggle to keep up lest I be dragged along by the krogan.

"Do you even know where you're going?" I ask as we cautiously make our way down another corridor similar to the last. So far, the whole place has been one dimly-lit passage of leaking overhead pipes, strewn-around crates and grimy walls.

"No, but I'm just following the directions," Ralak replies with not so much as a glance over his shoulder as he storms off for what I hope must be the exit.

Great, the krogan I'm stuck with just so happens to be sarcastic too. I'm about to shoot off a witty remark too and that's when I notice the walls. Upon closer inspection, I see worn-away markings which are barely just visible amidst all the dust and grime that coated it. Judging by what little I can make out of the symbols, we seem to be headed for a stairwell that would take us up to the ground level after all.

"Get down!" Ralak hisses as he forcibly drags me behind the cover of some crates. "We've come this far, I don't need you screwing it up now!" I fall to the ground in a clumsy heap which sends a fresh ripple of agony coursing all over my limbs. I peer over the crates to see a whole squadron of mercenaries sitting idly in front of what looks like a cargo elevator.

"What's keeping them so long? It's just two guys; how hard can it be for those dumbasses to bring them here?" one of the batarian guards complain to the other. He then opens up a comm channel to what presumably must be the group of guards we've just dispatched. "Actus, quit screwing around and get those two prisoners here ASAP. I don't need another cut on my paycheck from that bitch Jentha again. Hey Actus, do you copy? Hello?" He tries again on several other channels most likely to only get the same results. He turns to the rest of the squad, "Shit, none of the guys are answering their comm. channels. Get down there and find out what happened!"

"Great going there, Guram. I told you we should just stick to the plan where we all escort them to Tarak but you just _had _to send Actus and his men instead. Now Jentha's gonna be pissed," a turian guard grumbles.

"Xelvast, just shut the hell up. I know what I'm doing," Guram angrily retorts.

No sooner than they start to disperse, a panicked merc rounds the corridor and runs up to the group. "Guys, we have a problem on our hands! The prisoners are gone! I found Actus and the guys all unconscious in the storeroom!"

"What! Damn it! Okay men, get going, search the halls and find those prisoners!" Guram barks out. He turns to a couple of the mercs, two humans and a turian, in the back of the group, "You three, stay back here and guard the elevator. If they want to get out of here, the elevator's the only way out!"

A flurry of activity ensues and the mercs march off down the corridors. I duck back into the shadows of the crates. "Crap. So, now what?"

"We bunker down here and wait till the rest are gone. Then, we take down those three at the elevator," Ralak replies in an almost casual manner which really starts to unsettle me.

I can feel beads of sweat slowly perspiring on my forehead, and I can't tell whether they're from the physical exertion or the cold fear that's tying a knot in my stomach. We're definitely not gonna be able to take those three down head-on seeing as how they're armed to the teeth while we don't even have a single scrap of body armor on us. So it looks like we'll just need to take them out one by one. "Okay, let's do this," I reluctantly mutter.

Ralak motions for us to move upward to another stack of crates closer to the elevator. We keep to the shadows and I thank God that the sub-levels are dimly-lit. Despite Ralak's immense and bulky stature, the krogan really knows how to be stealthy at times. We slide into cover of the crates without so much as a sound. Good, looks like they haven't noticed us yet. I just keep my gaze fixed on Ralak and psyche myself up to help him out whenever he decides to make a move on the guards.

We wait a couple of tense moments and just as I'm about to prompt him to get a move on, he reaches out over the crates and grabs one of the human mercs passing by. In one fluid motion, he one-handedly pulls him off his feet, over the crate and silences the guard with a crushing grip on his windpipe. "Well, that takes care of one of them," Ralak peers over the crate and sizes up the remaining two, "you get the guy leaning on the opposite wall while I take out the guy coming towards us." I nod my approval. "Ready? One….two….three!"

We both pop out of cover and I try my best to fire off a few shots one-handed. It's no use, the recoil sends those rounds off their mark but it's enough to send the turian scrambling for cover behind another crate. Meanwhile, Ralak's drops the other merc with several thundering roars of the shotgun. I see the guy behind the crate drawing a bead on us with his assault rifle while I uselessly squeeze off shot after shot, every one of them going wild. "Ralak!" I desperately call out.

In a flash, he appears in front of me wielding the dead merc as a human shield to protect us from the onslaught of bullets that fly our way. I see the armor's kinetic barriers visibly distort as it repels the impact of the shots. With a roar, Ralak charges forward and slams into the crate that the turian merc is behind, effectively driving him against the wall with a sickening crunch. The upper body of the unfortunate bastard slumps lifelessly onto the crate, pinned between it and the wall.

"That was way too close! What are you trying to do, kid? Get us killed? If you couldn't have handled him, you could have just said so!" he throws his one free hand up in exasperation.

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know how to fire a gun….especially not at real living people!"

"Look," he pauses to collect himself, "if you want to get out of this alive, you can't afford screw ups like this. I don't know where you're from kid, but let's face it, you're on Omega now! Sooner or later, you're going to need to fire that thing and kill someone before they kill us!"

Ralak activates the elevator controls on the side wall, just in the nick of time too as I hear the the other groups of mercs rounding the corner. "God damnit, they got Darius!" One of the merc turns his gaze upwards to the elevator. "What are you waiting for? Open fire!" he exclaims.

The krogan pushes me roughly behind cover as soon as the mercs start firing. "That again, was a screw up. You need to start thinking on your feet, kid!"

"Look, stop calling me 'kid', I have a name you know! It's Nate! And secondly, I said I'm sorry. It's not my fault I'm not as good at taking someone's life away as you are!" I shout to make myself heard over the gunfire.

"Whatever, kid. Just promise me you're not going to slow me down anymore than you already are when we get out of here."

The elevator reaches the ground floor and we take a peek over the crates to make sure that the coast is clear. Thankfully, it is. I'm surprised that they haven't alerted the whole building yet as to our escape attempt.

"Stay low and follow me, kid. With any luck, we'll be out of here before those dumbasses can lock the entire building down," Ralak hefts the shotgun in his hand and takes off down another corridor. I can only limp along as fast as I possibly can to match his pace. Also, a part of me just doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of proving that I'm nothing more than a dead weight to him. Wherever possible, we duck into empty hallways and keep ourselves out of sight from the other mercs patrolling the building.

"You'd think the guards would sound the alarm now that we're broken free, eh?" I absent-mindedly remark to Ralak as we sit quietly in a shadowy alcove of a room waiting for a guard patrol to pass us by.

"We're either not as valuable to Tarak as we might think or somebody just doesn't want to let the whole base know of how he screwed up during his watch," Ralak replies matter-of-factly. "I'll worry about that once we're far, far away from this place."

After ducking and weaving through more corridors to avoid any unnecessary confrontation, we finally make it to a large storehouse area of some sort. Large industrial containers and other miscellaneous crates are piled up high across the span of one side of the room where we emerge from. Aside from several scattered machineries and forklifts, the other side remains clear as a path leading to the loading bay.

"There, that's the exit!" Ralak points out. I follow his line of sight and spot a large door next to the loading bay shutters, which so happens to be on the opposite side of the room from us.

"We made it!" I lean against a container to try to catch my breath from the exertion and to steady myself. Even with the medigel, the pain's flaring up so bad that I try not to black out.

"Don't let your guard down yet kid. The place is still crawling with mercs and I don't think they're going to just let us waltz out the door."

I take in the full surroundings of the storehouse and notice that the Blue Suns are everywhere. To make matters worse, there's no cover between where we are in the aisle of containers to the exit doors. We'd be riddled with bullets in no time if we walked out there in full sight of the other mercs. "Alright, so…. we create a distraction to get their attention and then make a run for it? How's that sound?"

Ralak tilts his head slightly to consider this proposal of mine. "You know what, kid? That doesn't sound like too bad an idea." Somehow, my heart just jumps a little at this approval of his, even if it's coming from the likes of a hardened criminal. "See anything that we could use as a distraction?"

I turn my gaze upwards at all the crates and containers stacked neatly above me, my eyes just scanning for something that'll hopefully jump out at me. I spot what we need and give Ralak a nudge to get his attention, "How's that?" My eyes lock on the conspicuous "Highly Flammable" label that is emblazoned on rows after rows of fuel cells that is stacked on the far end of the aisle.

The corners of the krogan's mouth twist into a wicked smile, "Kid, guess you're not as useless as I thought you were. I don't suppose you'd want to do the honors now, would you? You _are_ one hell of a lousy shot."

"Not this time," I confidently reply. I drop into a crouch and raise my pistol. Straining a little with my cuffed left wrist, I use both hands to steady the gun and draw a bead on my target.

"Any time now, kid. Oh, and make those shots count. The guards are definitely going to come on over once they hear the gunshots. It's fine, there's no pressure on you at all," Ralak grunts a bit imprudently.

I pay no attention to that comment of his. Now if I can just remember what those tutorials on N7 Code of Honor had to say about firing a gun again. Ah, got it! I peer down the sights, loosen up my right arm, exhale and squeeze the trigger. I ride out the recoil of the first shot, and despite it sending out waves of new-found pain, I manage to pull the barrel slightly downwards to compensate for the vertical climb and give the trigger two successive pulls, repeating the motions each time. Three loud cracks ring out and I almost thought my shots went wide again until the fuel cells catch fire. Hell yes!

"I'd love to congratulate you kid, but if only you could shoot like that at things that are _shooting back_ at you," Ralak sarcastically replies. "Come on, let's get ready to make a run for it. You feeling good enough on your own two feet or do I need to carry you?"

I glare daggers back at him to which he just brushes off. "No, I think I can run fine on my own –"

_**BOOM!**_

An enormous blast drowns me out as the fuel cells explode in a series of fiery conflagrations. The concussive force that hits me even sways me on my feet for a bit. A flurry of confused shouts and activity fills the entire room and no sooner than I've regained my footing am I dragged along by Ralak towards the exit doors. My feet scramble to find purchase on the ground and once I do, I just pound my legs as fast as humanly possible to keep up with Ralak.

All Blue Suns personnel in the vicinity scramble to investigate the source of the explosion, which leaves the loading bay shutters relatively unguarded. We make a beeline straight for the door with Ralak tackling aside any unlucky mercs to stand in our way. I chance a look back and spot our guard detail hurtling into the storehouse and pointing at us. Oh boy, does the batarian guard look mad. I get that far in my train of thought before the bullets start flying.

"Oh SHIT!" I instinctively duck below the hail of hot salvo aimed for us. We hurtle through the doorway to find ourselves on a main avenue in Omega's warehouse district. "Ralak! They're right behind us!"

"I know! I noticed when they started shooting at us!" he yells back in response. "We need to get back to the commercial or residential district. We can lose them in the alleyways and crowds."

"I don't think they're planning on taking us alive now that they're shooting at us, are they?"

"I'll bet our genius captors here haven't quite figured that out yet, even if they're just trying to immobilize us. You don't need much brains to be a gun-for-hire."

Without needing anyone to tell me twice, we just book it in the general direction of those districts. With the adrenaline coursing through my system, I forget all notion of pain as I just concentrate on trying to _not_ catch a bullet in the back. I can hear the mercs in hot pursuit as attested to by the occasional bursts of gunfire aimed for us.

I squeeze off a few rounds myself to hopefully delay their advance. The shots go wild but I couldn't care less; I'm not going down without a fight. I lose track of how long we've been running. It could be minutes or hours but soon enough; the environs finally blend from the utilitarian and smog-choked visuals of the warehouse district into the shady hustle and bustle of the commercial district. There are more people in sight now which is a relief, but this also evokes a sense of déjà vu of a similar circumstance back on the Citadel.

"Excuse us! Get out of the way! Coming through!" I yell, more out of courtesy than actually expecting the crowds to step aside. Ralak on the other hand, just seems to plow his way through with little care for the people he elbows aside. Eventually, I give up on trying to shoulder my way through the crowd and just follow in his wake. It helps to be a living and breathing 7-feet-tall tank sometimes.

I look over my shoulder to see our pursuers struggling through the throngs of people to get to us. I'll give it to the Blue Suns, they're a persistent lot. We keep on moving through the crowd and dodging around various stall kiosks on the street but the sound of gunfire from behind me causes me to instinctively duck my head. However, the screams of terror draw my attention and I look back to see that the mercs are firing off warning shots into the air to disperse the crowds.

"Ralak! They're still onto us!" I yell over the shouting.

He takes a glance behind and pulls me into a nondescript alley. "We'll try to lose them in here. We might as well take advantage of the labyrinth of alleyways in Omega."

The narrow strip of the alley which we enter is dimly-lit and littered with trash, pools of filthy water and the occasional vorchas scavenging about. Even here, the ubiquitous night sky of Omega looks down on us from between the walls of haphazard buildings that make up the alleyways. We take twists and turns at various intersections, seemingly at random intervals to try to shake off our pursuers. No such luck.

"So they think they can try to lose us in here? They're not the first to try on my watch. Squads 1 and 2, lock down the perimeter to make sure they don't get out. The rest of you, on me. We're gonna comb over this network of alleys until we find them!" I can hear the batarian, Guram barking out orders from somewhere within the alleyways, the echoes reverberating all over making it hard to exactly pinpoint his location. "When I find them, they're gonna wish that they never fucked with me in the first place."

I turn to Ralak, desperately hoping that he has an idea to get us out of this mess. Seeing that blank look in his eyes doesn't bode well for the both of us. "Ralak, _please_ tell me that you have a plan for this."

"Shut up, I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" he hisses, no doubt racking his brain to look for an escape route.

I grip my pistol tightly, frantically looking up and down both sides of the alley for any sign of the Blue Suns. Fleeting silhouettes of the mercs dance across the walls and the frantic patter of their footsteps grow ever closer. Damn it! We've come this far, and I'm sure as hell not about to give up now!

The click of a cocked gun makes me whirl around to face a shadowy alcove. A figure emerges from it, the gun in his talons pointed unwaveringly at Ralak's head.

"Get the _fuck _away from him," Uncle Leo growls maliciously.

* * *

**Author's notes: Alright, Uncle Leo's stepping back into the spotlight again after two chapters of Ralak stealing the limelight. The old turian deserves some love too, okay?**

**Where the canon of the universe is concerned, I know that we meet Tarak who's the leader of the Blue Suns on Omega in Mass Effect 2, which is set roughly two years after the events of the first game. So, I think it's only fitting that he's still a grunt who needs to work his way up to the top of the command chain during the events of Mass Effect: Remnants. Oh, and that Vido's still hanging around as the baus of Omega. ****Unless I've gotten my facts wrong about the canon, feel free to point it out. **

**With that said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thank you so much for reading! I'll be seeing you guys with an update next week! **


	12. Grand Theft Auto

**Author's Notes: And back in time for another update as promised! Hope I didn't keep you all waiting. Well then, I really have nothing much to say apart from the fact that I'm looking forward to see the extended DLC dropping 26 June. =)**

**Again, I don't own the Mass Effect series and IP in any way whatsoever, and is the sole property of Bioware. Except for my OCs. **

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 11 - Grand Theft Auto

The urgency of our flight from the Blue Suns has somehow instantly shifted into a tension-filled standoff between Ralak and Uncle Leo. The turian holds an unwavering gaze on Ralak, talons tight on the trigger of the pistol aimed at the krogan. Ralak responds in kind, shooting back the very same gaze at Uncle Leo. The tension and murderous intent of both parties becomes almost palpable in the air.

"Uncle Leo, I don't think now's the best time for this," I say slowly and deliberately, afraid that even the sound of my voice will cause the tension to erupt.

"Nate, you be quiet and let me do the talking. You have no idea of who this krogan really is," Uncle Leo replies, without so much as even taking his eyes off Ralak. "If I find out he lays so much as a hand on you, he's going to fucking regret it."

It takes a moment for Uncle Leo's words to register. I almost forgot about the injuries I sustained during those bouts in the ring. My bruised face and bloodied clothes must make me look as if I've been to hell and back. As soon as I start to remember them, all of the pain flares up again. I grit my teeth and it's all I can do from passing out from the pain "It's not what you think – "

"Oh yeah? And who exactly would you think I am?" Ralak cuts me off, talons already lingering uncomfortably close to his shotgun's trigger.

"Some Omega scum who's more than ready to murder this innocent boy here over a few measly credits," Uncle Leo vehemently retorts.

"Well then, the kid's still alive, isn't he? So what if you're wrong?"

"I don't intend to find out."

"Enough! The both of you!" I step in between the two, desperately trying to defuse the situation. God knows we've already got bigger problems on our hands. "Uncle Leo, just calm down for a second and listen to me!"

The turian doesn't show any sign of backing down nor does he lower his pistol. "Nate, step out of the way right now," Uncle Leo coolly orders albeit with a raised voice.

"No," I refuse to budge and lock eyes with him. "Uncle Leo look, I'd love to explain everything to you but right now, we've got some pissed-off mercs on our heels and needless to say, we need to get the hell out of here." I can already feel that every single second we waste on this pointless standoff here is another second that the Blue Suns start closing in on our position.

His expression softens somewhat, as does his grip on the gun. "Why's that? I don't suppose that it has something to do with him over here," he motions with his gun towards Ralak.

"Look turian, the kid's right! We can argue about this all day after we've dealt with the Blue Suns that are after us!" the krogan says exasperatedly. "Not much use pinning the blame on each other when we wind up dead, is there?"

As if on cue, the shouts of various voices no doubt belonging to the mercs are heard reverberating from all around us. For a short moment, conflicting emotions streak across his expression as he considers his options but I guess this turn of events is more than enough to convince Uncle Leo of our predicament. Thankfully, the turian finally relents in lowering his gun and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Fine, I'll take your word for it," and then turning to Ralak, "but try anything funny and you'll get a bullet to the skull."

The krogan grunts noncommittally in response but the shotgun is still gripped firmly in his hands. "Whatever you say, turian."

"Quick, get in here. We'll stay low until they lose track of us," Uncle Leo gestures towards the shadowy alcove where he first emerged from. He opens up his ommni-tool's communications display. "Nazreil, get back here. I've found him."

Still cuffed together and in the narrow confines of the alley, Ralak and I shuffle awkwardly past Uncle Leo into what I now see is a backdoor into one of the buildings. Uncle Leo must have noticed the handcuffs because he adds, "Anything in that tool bag of yours that can help break open an Elanus T-500M Securilock?"

There is a short pause. "I don't know about that, but I'll try my best to get it off," comes Nazreil's reply from the other end of the line.

Once we're all through the doorway, Uncle Leo shuts it firmly behind us, leaving us in the relative dark of the building. The only source of illumination comes from a small window above us, letting in the murky, orange glow of Omega's night sky. Within the narrow shafts of light that the window lets in, I see dust floating freely about.

"Damn, I can't even see two feet in front of me," I mutter.

"Turn on the flashlight function on your omni-tool then," Uncle Leo says.

With my cuffed left hand punching away at the digital buttons, I struggle to bring up the omni-tool display and note the crapload of unread messages and missed calls from both Uncle Leo and Nazreil that starts to pile in. Right, I forgot that I'm now out of the range of the Blue Suns' communications scramblers. Browsing through the litany of functions, I come across the flashlight option and activate it. A dazzling beam of light emanates from the omni-tool and illuminates the entirety of the room.

We seem to be in a stairwell of some sort, and the room is little more than a sparse, squalid corner of walls that reeks of the foul stench typical of Omega. Uncle Leo does the same with his omni-tool and guided by the light, he makes his up the decrepit stairs at the corner of the room.

"Come on, we'll be safer up top," he motions for us to come on over.

I manage to limp along a few steps before my left arm snags on the cuffs. Ralak's apparently intent to stay put. "Why should I trust you, turian? For all I know, there could be another ambush waiting up there for me," he cocks a wary eyebrow.

Oh god, not now. "Look Ralak, I trust Uncle Leo. There's no way he's going to be leading us into another trap and if anything, he's _definitely _not the kind to be working with those damned mercs," I desperately plead.

"The way I see it, you're just going to have to take his word for it, krogan. Either stay here and get gunned down by the mercs or follow me if you want to make it out of here alive," comes Uncle Leo's steely reply.

There's a tense moment of silence as Ralak considers Uncle Leo's proposition. The mercs' shouts and footsteps draw closer now that I swear they're already right outside the building. My heart's hammering in my chest so hard because for all I know, they could be seconds away from kicking down the door. I expect a bullet to tear right through my back at any moment now.

"Fine, but you'd better not be lying to me, turian!" Ralak finally gives in.

"Then hurry the hell up! The mercs' are just outside!" I hiss.

We hurriedly clamber up the stairwell as fast as I can limp. Each step of the way is an agonizing struggle as I will my protesting body to move its limbs. By the third floor, I'm drenched from head to toe in cold sweat and I stop to catch my breath. Suddenly, a door on the stairwell's landing bursts open and in a flash, both Ralak and Uncle Leo already have their weapons trained on the newcomer.

Nazreil does a quick double take at the guns pointed at him before Uncle Leo lowers his upon acknowledging the quarian.

"Thank the spirits, you made it!" Uncle Leo turns to Ralak and motions for him to lower the shotgun, "It's okay, the quarian's with us."

Ralak gives an annoyed grunt in response. Nazreil lets out a sigh of relief, but his body language says otherwise. No doubt it must have something to do with being caught off guard by the sight of an intimidating krogan like Ralak.

"So, you think you can get those handcuffs off?" Uncle Leo asks anxiously.

I slump against the handrails of the stairs and just concentrate on trying to breathe. Nazreil gingerly picks up the cuff on my left wrist and carefully inspects it. "You sure you know what you're doing, Naz?" I absent-mindedly ask as I shut my eyes to drown out the pain.

"Well, we quarians typically know our way around machines. It's a trait that comes from years growing up and repairing our old ships on the Flotilla," Nazreil replies, his distracted tone suggesting that he's already focused on the task at hand.

"Your people make the best weapon and armor modders on Omega too," Ralak chimes in.

"…Uh…thanks, I guess?"

Nazreil already has his omni-tool out and is drawing up the blueprints of the handcuffs as we speak. The quarian works feverishly, his hands flying deftly between rummaging through the tools in his tool belt and tinkering with the handcuff. Uncle Leo steps into my vision and crouches down in front of me. He pulls out a medical vial and unscrews the top lid off before pouring out some of its contents onto his talons.

"Hold still, Nate. It's gonna sting a bit but it'll help with the wounds," he lightly rubs some of the gel onto the cuts and bruises on my face. I find instant relief the moment the substance touches my skin.

"I've already given him a shot of medi-gel back in the Blue Suns' base," Ralak says from where he's leaning against the handrail, no doubt keeping an eye out on the door below.

"Well, it seems to be wearing off. Can't you see that he's in pain?" Uncle Leo must have replied a tad bit too harshly, because he later adds, "In any case, thanks for sparing some of your medi-gel for him." Ralak just grunts in response.

Uncle Leo turns to me, wearing a softer expression reminding me more of the Uncle Leo I knew and loved, "We get you patched up, and you wander off just to get yourself hurt again. What am I ever going to do with you and your stubbornness," he grins a little at that. Once he's done administering the medi-gel onto most of my external wounds, he injects whatever that's left in the vial onto my arm. Just like back in the base's cellar, a wave of euphoria sweeps over me as the painkillers in the medi-gel course through my blood and kick into effect.

Nazreil's better than I thought because sparks soon start leaping off the cufflinks in conjunction with jarring electronic beeps that must signify a malfunction in the device. A few more current overloads from Nazreil's omnitool and several incisions from his hand-held plasma torch later, smoke starts sizzling out and the three of us look on with wide-eyed anticipation.

"Okay, I almost got it –_" BOOM. _The quarian's words are cut off as the malfunctioning handcuffs erupt in a loud and smoky conflagration.

Everyone's coughing from the haze of smoke billowing out from the cuffs while I try to wave the smoke away. Sure enough, despite the little mishap, I can hear the locks disengaging with a soft hiss of pneumatics and the bulky cuffs clatter harmlessly onto the floor.

"Well, that's one way to unlock those things," Ralak mutters amusedly as he rubs his wrists.

"Whoa, good job there, Naz," I lend a helping hand to the quarian and scoop him up off the floor.

Nazreil unsteadily rises to his feet and shakes his head to reorient himself. "Keelah, Nazreil you bosh'tet, you should have bypassed the plexus capacitors first before cutting the locks."

"Not to cut our little celebration short, but we've got company!" Ralak calls out as he peers down the stairwell.

Uncle Leo rushes over to the krogan's side and a look of alarm crosses his features. "Shit! They must have heard the cuffs malfunctioning." No sooner than he says that, I can hear the door below forcibly kicked open and the frantic voices of the mercs stream into the stairwell.

"I swear I heard something coming from inside here. Even my scans picked something up," a rough voice belonging to one of the mercs can be heard below.

"Guys, up there! Look, there they are!" another one of the mercs shouts.

Uncle Leo ducks behind the handrails as bullets pepper the landing that we're on. I even wince at the shrapnels of debris that's being chipped off the walls all around us.

"Ralak, was it? You take Nate and help him get up to the roof. I'll cover you guys from the rear. Nazreil, take point!" Uncle Leo orders.

"What? Why am I saddled with the kid?" the krogan asks incredulously.

"You two have gotten this far together, right? What's the harm in sticking around with him for just a bit longer?" Uncle Leo retorts without as so much as a glance at Ralak. "Now, move!"

Sighing in frustration, the krogan wraps his left arm underneath my right shoulder and bodily lifts me off the ground with little effort. "Come on, you heard the turian, let's get going." Then, he takes off after Nazreil who's already bolting up the stairs.

I turn behind to see Uncle Leo exchange a few potshots with the mercs below, trying to delay their advance. I crane my neck for a better view of the stairwell below and note that half a dozen mercs are already shooting their way up to the first floor landing. Thank God that Ralak's carrying me along, I'd just slow the rest down if I insisted on limping up the stairs.

With blood pounding in my ears and the hail of bullets flying all over the place, I don't even realize that we've reached the eighth and top floor of the stairwell. I see Nazreil on the landing above trying to hack the rooftop access door. The access panel lights up green and the door slides open.

"Keelah, they're gaining on us! Hurry up!" Nazreil peers down the stairwell and fires off several suppressing shots from his pistol to keep the mercs pinned down.

"I'm going as fast as I can! Krogans aren't exactly the most lithe and agile beings out there in the galaxy, just thought I'd let you know!" Ralak sarcastically quips.

Uncle Leo's the last to make it through the doorway onto the rooftops and Nazreil seals the access door shut behind him with several commands from his omni-tool.

I turn my attention away from the door to the rooftop we're now on. _Oh my god_. The view from up here is a lot to take in. Omega's skyline has an almost beautifully….._perverse_ quality to it – the night sky is tinged a perpetual orange haze and towering buildings haphazardly emerge from the thick veil of smog that chokes the air. The buildings stretch as far as my eyes can see, although the more distant ones are framed only by the silhouette of the lights that snake skywards across their exterior. Omega truly is the embodiment of all the vices of galactic civilization.

Ralak's deep, guttural voice snaps me out of my reverie and brings me back into the present. "So what's the plan now, turian?"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking! I never expected that the mercs would chase us all the way up here!"

"May I suggest that we make our across the rooftops instead? The buildings are built close enough that we should be able to jump across the gaps," Ralak smirks smugly, knowing that he's the only one among us familiar with the layout of Omega.

Uncle Leo is silent for just a fraction of a second before hastily agreeing to the plan. "Fine, just so long as we get the hell away from these mercs. I've still got my eyes on you so don't get any funny ideas," Uncle Leo's quick to add.

"Hey, I'm on the run from them just like you are. The least you can do is show me a little appreciation," the krogan grunts. "Come on, follow me! I know a place where our quarian friend here can help us hijack a skycar to make our escape."

"Uh….I don't think I want to do that –" Nazreil manages to get out before Ralak interrupts.

"Well, our life depends on it, so you don't get to have a say in the matter," the krogan fixes his eyes sternly on the quarian to which Nazreil gulps.

"O…okay."

"Kid, you think you're good enough to walk on your own again? If I carry you, I might have to throw you over the ledges. I'm heavy enough to barely make the jump as it is," Ralak turns to me.

"I… I guess so."

He relinquishes his arm around me and I gingerly take a step forward and then two. Both the medi-gel and adrenaline's already kicking in, so I'm able to move around with a tolerable degree of pain now. "Yeah, I think I'm good to go."

"Good, I don't need you slowing me down again," the krogan replies sardonically but laces it with – is that what I think it is? – just a touch of light humor. "Now, let's get going before the mercs figure out to hack the door open."

Ralak gets a running start and with a mighty grunt of effort, he leaps off the edge of the building. He clears the gap and lands on the adjacent building with a heavy thud.

"Nate, Nazreil, you two go on ahead. I'll hang back to cover you guys," Uncle Leo calls out over his shoulder, his back to us as he trains his pistol on the access door.

Nazreil motions with his head towards the gap, prompting me to go first. I take a deep breath, back up a few paces and get a running start. The edge comes rushing up to me, and I push off on my right foot. Time slows as I feel myself sailing through the air before touching down on the other side. My whole body screams out in protest as I land, but the medi-gel's numbed the pain enough for me to grit my teeth through it. Nazreil makes the jump with ease and Uncle Leo does too.

We've managed to get two rooftops away before the mercs emerge from the stairwell and start opening fire. In any case, that's still not far enough. We huddle down behind some coolant pipes and return fire. I hand my pistol over to Ralak who unsurprisingly shoots with excellent marksmanship. We manage to take one of them down before the mercs scramble for cover.

"You know, this is precisely the kind of things I make a point to avoid on my Pilgrimage," Nazreil comments aloud.

"Well then, I'm sorry to have dragged you into all of this," Uncle Leo apologetically replies.

"No, no, it's a good thing, really. Thanks to you guys, I have a roof over my head and enough to eat. What's more, I would be stuck on the Citadel for the rest of my Pilgrimage if it wasn't for running into you guys! It's the least I can do to return the favor. Plus, I guess a little adventure wouldn't hurt."

"Good to know….and hey, we could always use the extra gun," Uncle Leo shifts his attention to Ralak, "Take Nate and get going while we keep them pinned down."

Ralak makes good on the lull in fire and jumps across to next rooftop. He waves for me to do the same. I get up from behind cover while Uncle Leo and Nazreil pop out to trade another barrage of shots at the mercs. The light cracks in pistol fire are interspersed with the rapid thrum of assault rifle fire before dying down completely. The mercs must be returning fire and driving Uncle Leo and Nazreil back into cover. Too late to stop the jump though, I've already built up too much momentum to stop in my tracks. Distracted by the fact that my back's wholly exposed to the enemy, I mistime my jump and push off far earlier than I intended to.

"Shit!"

"Nate!" I can hear Uncle Leo's alarmed voice calling from somewhere behind me.

I'm only halfway across the gaping chasm in between buildings and already, I feel myself plummeting. The ledge of the rooftop rises above me and disappears from my sight. I reach my arm out in a vain attempt to scrabble for any purchase on the walls but there's nothing I see that I can hold on to. A cold feeling of dread drops like a dead weight into the pits of my stomach. _I'm so fucking screwed._

"Got you!"

There's a visceral sensation of coming to a stop mid-plummet. I look up and peer down the beefy, scaly trunk of an arm as Ralak catches my outstretched hand. The krogan grunts with effort as he tries to pull me up from where he's precariously lying down over the rooftop's ledge. "Hold on tight now!"

I clamp onto his arm with both hands as he lifts me back up onto the hard floor of the rooftop. I roll onto my back and try to get my rapid breathing under control. Holy crap, that was way too close. "Oh my God, thanks for the save!" I manage to gasp out.

"What did I say about slowing us down again?" the krogan smirks. "The kid's alright! You just concentrate on trying to avoid catching a bullet in the back, turian!" Ralak hollers over to Uncle Leo.

A look of immense relief crosses the old turian's facial expression. Boy, I really need to stop scaring him like that. Can turians even get heart attacks? In any case, heart attacks or no, we're still not out of the woods yet. Ralak covers Uncle Leo and Nazreil's advance while I stay low and inch my way towards the other side of the roof.

"Come on, we're not far now – just a couple more rooftops to go. Think you're still able to keep up, turian?" Ralak jeers amusedly.

"Shut up and lead the way," Uncle Leo retorts, already winded from the exertion.

We alternate the pattern of jumping across rooftops while the other provides covering fire – thankfully, everything goes smoothly this time around – and before we know it, we've reached the end of our stretch of rooftops. I peer around and note that the front of us is blocked off by one of those towering buildings while a sheer eight-storey drop to the streets below awaits us on the left.

That only leaves the right side which Ralak is already making his way over to. He drops off the side of the ledge and clambers down a series of rooftops that vertically descends onto a flat expanse of space that serves as an elevated parking lot of some kind. Then I see the numerous parked skycars that Ralak was talking about earlier. Huh, guess we can trust him after all.

"I'm still not too sure about the whole grand theft auto part of Ralak's plans though," Nazreil reluctantly mutters, just out of the krogan's earshot.

"We'll worry about the owner of the car later. Quite frankly, chances are that you'd be hijacking a car that was already stolen from its original owner. Gathering from what I've seen of Omega, I wouldn't be surprised," I reply.

"Humph, I guess we could return it to the original owner once we're done with it."

"Yeah….whatever helps you sleep at night, dude."

From out of the corner of my vision, I can see Uncle Leo rolling his eyes and shaking his head at us.

We slide down the last step of the way down an inclined slope of a building onto the parking lot. Even down here, there's no order and pattern as to how the skycars are parked. They look as though they're just strewn around all over the place, taking up whatever space is available – typical of the lawlessness in Omega. Down the streets away from the lot is what seems to be the entrance to another nightclub, judging by the raucous laughter of the crowds and the bright signs emblazoned across every available inch of the front walls. I guess these cars must belong to the patrons.

A flurry of bullets fired from several storeys above sends us scrambling into cover behind the cars. "I'm starting to think that either Vido or Tarak considers us more trouble than we're actually worth. So far, the mercs don't seem to be doing too good a job of trying to capture us _alive_," Ralak quips.

"No shit, Ralak! Given what we've done to them back in the base, it's no wonder they want us dead," I look at Ralak incredulously from where all four of us are huddled behind one of the cars.

Uncle Leo and Ralak blind fires over the car before Ralak shouts to be heard over the din of flying bullets. "Get going further down the lot!"

"What's wrong with this car right here?" I ask, puzzled.

"Knowing the crap that most people drive on Omega, I doubt if this one's gonna even be able to stay afloat given the damage done to it –" a bullet pinging off the car's already bullet-ridden roof cuts Ralak off and illustrates his point clearly enough. "Now go!"

Nazreil and I stay low, ducking from car to car. "So what the hell kinda car does he want, anyway?" I wonder aloud to Nazreil.

"Preferably something that can stand a lot of abuse? It wouldn't hurt to be bulletproof too, I guess," Nazreil replies, matter-of-factly.

"Well then, you keep an eye out for anything that fits the bill. I'm absolutely clueless when it comes to cars."

I turn back and note that Uncle Leo and Ralak's right on our heels, pausing occasionally to slide behind cover and trade back a few shots at the mercs.

"Over there!" Nazreil exclaims, pointing to a corner of the lot.

I follow his line of sight and stop at the sight of a luxurious-looking, steel-gray sedan. "You sure about that?" I raise my eyes skeptically at the quarian.

"Positive. The Cord-Hislop Taurus's built to even withstand an anti-materiel sniper round. You know how the rich get paranoid over their safety sometimes."

"You two found something we can use yet?" Uncle Leo sidles up to us.

I nod and point to the Taurus. I swear I see a glint of excitement flashing across the turian's weary eyes. "So what are we still sitting around here and waiting for? Let's go."

We make a dash for the car and slide into cover behind it. At least the knowledge of it being bulletproof is reassuring….somewhat. I slump against the hull of the car to try to catch my breath. Beads of perspiration drop off my forehead from the pain and exertion, and I'm already starting to see patches of black swimming in my vision. I'm really going to need some serious medical attention after this.

"Okay, I'll need you guys to buy me some time to bypass the locks on this," Nazreil pops his omni-tool open and immediately starts bypassing the skycar's security.

Uncle Leo grabs Nazreil's discarded pistol and pops out of cover to let loose a rapid volley of shots from the two pistols. He ducks back behind the car just as more bullets rain down on us and the car, setting off the car's alarm system. Ralak joins us behind the car moments later. "The Taurus, huh? Looks like somebody's got good tastes," he adds.

"Hey, Nazreil here deserves the credit. I don't know a single thing about cars," I pant.

I peer over the hood of the car and see that the two of the mercs are already down on the parking lot while the rest of their squad is already joining them from the rooftops above. They're starting to gain on us, despite Uncle Leo and Ralak's best efforts at holding them back.

The blaring car alarm's starting to grate on my nerves and Ralak's too because the krogan huffs in annoyance and just smashes open the side windshield of the car. "So much for being able to withstand an anti-materiel sniper round," he scoffs. "Sorry little guy, the hacking's going a bit too slow for my liking."

"But I…I was just moments away –" Nazreil sputters before Ralak's already forcing the doors open from the interior. The corners of his mouth grin in triumph as the locks give way and the doors swing open in a metallic squeal of protest. "Now get in there and get the engines running!" he growls at Nazreil.

"S..sure thing!" the quarian stutters out and hops into the driver's seat. Nazreil perches himself awkwardly below the steering controls and starts work on kick-starting the engine. The controls light up intermittently, followed by the revving of the engines. Nerve-wracking seconds tick by as the car revs up once…twice…and third time's the charm. The engine comes to life and maintains a steady thrum, as does the holographic control display.

"Yes!" Nazreil whoops.

"Now let's get the hell out of here! Quarian, get into the back seat, I'll be the one driving," Ralak orders.

Nazreil scrambles into the backseat, making it a point to keep his head low as shots relentlessly impact the glass windshield on his side of the car. Ralak scoots over to the driver's seat with some difficulty, owing to his large stature.

"Come on, Nate. Up you go!" Uncle Leo helps me onto my feet and gets me into the back seat of the car together with Nazreil before hopping in. "And stay down!" I comply and lean myself as far back into the seat as possible.

"Gah!" Nazreil exclaims, holding up a hand to shield his face. The windshield gives way under the hail of bullets and shatters, spraying stray shards of glass into the car. "Nazreil, you okay?" I ask. "I'm fine, the glass just bounced off my environment suit," comes his reply as he inspects himself.

I feel a sudden jerk beneath me as the thrusters roar to life, sending the skycar shooting upward. Despite that, I can still hear the rattle of bullets bouncing harmlessly off the bottom of the car. Ralak has one hand on the steering controls while the other hand effortlessly fires off the shotgun through the open window. I see one or two of the mercs out of cover who go down under the shotgun's mighty barrage. They must be getting a lot more desperate now, seeing as how they're lingering out of cover for longer periods of time to fire at us.

"Come on! Turn this car around and let's get the hell out of here, krogan!" Uncle Leo yells from where he's leaning out of the car and over the roof to get a clear shot at our pursuers.

"We'll go in just a bit, after I get a little payback on these Blue Suns bastards," Ralak lets off two more shots from his shotgun, wielding it like an oversized pistol. Two more of the mercs crumple to the floor as Ralak smiles in satisfaction, "And now, we go!"

With several taps of the holographic control panel, Ralak turns the car around and guns the engine, just in time for Uncle Leo to duck back into the car. The car rockets skywards and clears the low-lying buildings by mere inches, leaving the mercs on the parking lot below to eat our dust.

All of us breathe out a collective sigh of relief but Ralak's insistent on maintaining the car's death-defying speed. I take a glimpse at the speedometer's readout but instantly decide against it – I'm better off _not _knowing the ungodly speed we're travelling at. The krogan swings the car out from a labyrinthine network of buildings onto what looks like one of the main skyways of Omega. Dilapidated buildings and the insect-like streams of people milling about Omega's many streets and avenues fly past me as I peer downwards.

"You have a place in mind, turian?" Ralak asks almost casually, apparently unfazed by what just transpired with the mercs.

"Get us to a hospital, or whatever passes for one here in this hellhole. Nate needs immediate medical attention," Uncle Leo anxiously replies, the urgency in his voice already starting to give way to weariness.

"What, the kid? He's going to be fine! Anyone who's lasted that long in the ring like he did is a lot tougher than they look."

"Just get us someplace where we can patch him up….please," all the fight's gone out of Uncle Leo's tone now that we're safe.

"Fine, I know just the place."

"Ralak, one more thing," Uncle Leo pauses mid-sentence.

"What?"

"….thanks for saving Nate back there. And for keeping him safe until I got to you two."

Ralak only grunts in response and an awkward silence hangs in the air. I'm barely registering all of this as I slowly slip in and out of consciousness. Now that the adrenaline's wearing off, I'm starting to feel the anesthetic effects of the medi-gel. Coupled with the sheer exhaustion and physical abuse that my body's endured in the past couple of hours, I'm content to just sleep all the pain from my aching limbs away.

The last thing I remember is Nazreil's raspy pants for air through his voice modulator and the stream of traffic against the backdrop of Omega before nodding off.

* * *

**Author's notes: More action sequences, but in case you're starting to get tired of the constant running, shooting and dodging bullets, I can promise you that the next few chapters are going to be more toned-down, so look forward to it. **

**Once again, thanks for reading and if you would like to, feel free to drop your comments. I more than appreciate constructive criticisms! Until then, see you guys and gals next week! **


	13. Forgive, but Never Forget

**Author's notes: Well, let me first just get it out in the open. The Extended Cut Ending DLC was everything I could have hoped for in an ending to a trilogy that defines the sci-fi genre of this generation. I loved the closure that the ending provided and I can finally rest easy knowing that the galaxy that I invested 100 hours-or-so-worth of playtime into saving is thriving thanks to my deeds. In short, I tip my hat off to Bioware for correcting glaring plot holes and giving us a worthy epilogue. **

**It felt like my first playthrough of Mass Effect 3 all over again. And I will proudly say that I shed tears Every. Single. Time when the ending rolls around. Guess Mass Effect 3's really made me its bitch, ey? And I'm totally okay with it. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did and I hope that it restored your faith in the Mass Effect universe. **

**Anyways, enough with my ramblings on the game. So here it is, as usual, Chapter 12 of ME: Remnants. Enjoy! **

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 12 - Forgive, but Never Forget

A figure clothed in a familiar black trench-coat makes his way to the far side of the room where a sophisticated communications array takes up the entire wall. The room is bathed in an eerie glow of blue, the only source of illumination coming from the numerous screens of the array. A softly blinking red light on the holographic panel signals an incoming message. The figure reaches out a gloved hand and taps the panel. A white, human-shaped projection materializes into existence in front of the figure.

"Operative Wilkins, it has come to my knowledge that the target has eluded capture once again," a digitally-synthesized voice emanates from the projection.

Silence ensues until Wilkins reluctantly speaks, frustration evident in his voice, "Yes, that is true. The outcome of our efforts was….regrettable to say the least. Despite all our intel and preparations, we never expected the quarian that came to the target's aid. We've reason to believe that they've recently befriended the quarian upon their arrival on the Citadel."

"I have no need for excuses, Operative Wilkins. The target is a _very _priceless investment on my behalf and I've waited years for his return to me. After all this time, I'm truly starting to doubt your abilities."

"You've nothing to worry about, sir. We've planted a homing beacon – one of our contingencies – in their starship and tracking their location as we speak."

There's a slight pause on the other end of the line before the voice speaks again. "Once again, your resourcefulness and determination impresses me."

"Which is why I'm the best at what I do."

"But until the target is captured, those traits of yours will mean nothing. You've served me well so far, so _don't_ fail me now. Now, was there anything else?"

A question gnaws at the back of Wilkins head among plenty of others, but this one's been most persistent ever since he located the target in New Madison – heck, it's been on his mind ever since day one when he was put in charge of this operation. It probably isn't all that important and he doubts if it'll help him apprehend the target. However, after the better part of a decade in hunting down the target's trail that's gone cold thanks to Sunderland's betrayal, Wilkins believes that he's more than entitled to know.

"…Actually, there is one thing, sir."

"Make it brief, I have far more pressing matters to attend to," the silhouette replies briskly but there's a slight hint of intrigue in its voice that no amount of digital-synthesizing can hide. Wilkins would know – after all these years on the job, you learn to get a good read on people.

"This is the closest we've come to capturing the target in a long, long time. I don't suppose if there's any information that might help in the target's retrieval? If there were, I would more than appreciate looking at them them to ensure the target's capture," Wilkins breaths a small sigh of relief. There, he said it and hell, it felt _good_ to get it off his chest.

There's another pause at the end of the line, a pause that goes on just a fraction of a second too long. "There's nothing more that I have that you don't already know. Every single piece of intel that you need to know about the target has already been forwarded to you."

"Noted, sir."

"Well then, Shadow Broker out," the projection speaks with an air of finality before cutting the line.

Right, so his suspicions are more than confirmed. There's definitely something more to this whole thing than the Shadow Broker lets on. Wilkins turns around and heads back to the door that he first came through. The relative silence of the room melts away to the hustle and bustle of the command center.

Wilkins knows that information is vital to the capture-and-retrieve services that he offers but he makes it a point not to know anything other than the details that concern his objectives. Beyond that, whatever his clients' motives for utilizing his services in the first place are none of his business. It all boils down to professionalism – the less questions you ask, the better for both sides.

Who was he kidding; he should have known from the start that it wasn't going to be another one of his ordinary bag-and-tag missions when the Shadow Broker's involved. That, and coupled with the fact that the Broker's been generous enough to supply him with the credits to fund his operation for the better part of _13 years_ definitely says something about how badly the Broker wants this kid. Somehow, Wilkins' just can't help but wonder why. From the intel that's already on hand and through his own private research, the target's just another insignificant genetic experiment of some sort – one among thousands.

"Sir, we've traced them to the Sahrabarik System in the Omega Nebula. Further triangulation of the homing beacon's signal indicates that the target's somewhere on the Omega spacestation," one of his assistants rushes over and places a datapad in Wilkins' hand, illustrating the assistant's point.

Well then, here's a good a chance as any to find out why the Broker wants the target so bad. Professionalism can take a backseat if some extra bit of information as to his clients' motives can ensure the operation's success. Personally, he finds the Broker a hard person to trust – always hiding behind his proxies and working from the shadows. But the only reason he's still doing this after 13 years is the fact that he's not failed a single one of his assignments before, and he damn sure isn't going to fail this one, especially for the Broker. The promised paycheck helps too.

"Keep me posted of their location at all times," he orders.

The assistant looks on in anticipation of further orders. "Is that all sir? Should I notify the squad to prep for deployment?"

"There's no need for that. For now, we're just doing recon on the target. Monitor their conversations and keep me updated of anything that could suggest their future destination."

"Not to be overstepping my boundaries sir, but shouldn't we move in for the extraction? Their ship's engines are disabled and there's no better place than Omega for retrieval, unlike the fiasco back on the Presidium," his assistant anxiously chatters on.

"Like I said, we're doing recon on the subject until further notice. Do I make myself clear?" Wilkins enunciates his final words venomously.

"Ye…yes sir," and with that, his assistant scurries away.

Wilkins assumes his usual position at the back of the room where he's able to overlook his entire team at work. Some of the personnel have been with him since day one, doggedly trying to recover the target's trail but always finding themselves a step behind. Now that they're already so close, he bets that some of them are just as eager as he is to finally finish this operation, call it a day and go home. But not yet, there's still one last thing left to be done.

He stares intently at one of the screens that display the target and his turian protector.

_Now let's just see who or what you really are. _

Boy, the events of the past few days have all been a blur to me. Ever since our narrow escape from the Blue Suns, we gunned it straight to one of Ralak's associates to get me some urgent medical attention. Safe to say, the place where this human 'doctor' worked violated most – if not all – health code protocols that I could think of. Even with his unscrupulous and pretentious personality however, the man knew his stuff. I guess you would after years of treating every single fisticuff-induced injury imaginable. Broken limbs, concussions, you name it, he'll fix it.

After several anxious hours of surgery and patching me up, of which I spent mostly under an anesthetic-induced stupor, the doctor cleared me fit and ready to go. Despite what he's seen over the years of being on Omega, he was genuinely fazed after discharging me. Said he's never seen anything quite like me. Whatever he meant, I was way too drugged up to even give it much thought. All I could remember was Uncle Leo's expression of relief when I pulled through okay.

As for the skycar….well, we had to abandon it in some random residential district before walking the rest of the distance back to the spaceport where the Vanguard's docked. I know it was to shake the mercs off of our trail but still, it was a waste of a _very_ nice car. The doctor said I needed lots of rest from the extensive surgery procedure and upon Uncle Leo's strict insistence, here I am resting my days away on the starship. By my count, it's been almost two days now? It's hard to tell though, what with the different orbital cycle of Omega and all.

I shuffle uncomfortably from where I'm splayed on the couch in front of the holoscreen. The fabric of the swathes of bandages wrapped all over my body is starting to chafe a little. I try to find a new position to settle into in order to make myself comfortable. All the while, I lazily thumb the remote and surf from channel to channel, in vain hopes of finding a show that's decent enough to watch. No such luck, especially here on Omega where the selection of shows on the broadcast's crap. A shuffling of feet catches my attention and it takes me all of my effort to just lift my body off the couch enough to see who it is.

Uncle Leo paces into the room, followed shortly behind by Nazreil whose body language seems to suggest that he's frustrated at something. "Look, Mr. Leo, we both have been down there for a few hours trying to get the drive core working now. Unless we find a replacement part for the quantum spark catalyst, there's no way we can fix it."

The turian furrows his brow plate in thought, "Those things don't exactly come cheap…..you're sure there's absolutely no way you can bypass it and get the drive core running again?"

Nazreil sighs a little, wiping his gloved hands on a piece of rag, "Like I said, those guys back on the Citadel knew what they were doing when they tried to disable this ship. It's a good thing we managed to stop them from doing any further damage. Keelah, I'm amazed that the catalyst held as long as it did that this ship's still able to perform mass relay jumps to get us as far as Omega. But the part's damaged beyond repair at this point so there's no feasible way we can get this ship operational again without a new spark catalyst."

"Huh…." Uncle Leo scratches his forehead as he considers something. "I'm not exactly thrilled at the prospect that we're now sitting ducks here in Omega. It's bad enough that those guys from the Citadel could still be looking for us, and now we've got mercenaries to worry about too."

"You think it was a good idea to….you know, let the krogan on board?" Nazreil lowers his voice to a whisper as he glances in the direction of the stairwell just beyond the bedrooms that leads to the lower level of the ship.

"I think I'll just let that comment of yours slide, quarian. I'm in no mood to be taking any crap from you today," a deep voice rumbles from the stairwell as Ralak appears in its threshold.

Nazreil lets out a little whimper and looks away, deciding to join me here on the couch. I sometimes pity the poor guy; Ralak doesn't let him catch a break at all. Uncle Leo just folds his arms unimpressed as he makes eye contact with Ralak. "Look here, I trust you enough to let you on board, so don't push your luck."

"Whatever turian, you still owe me the way I see it."

"Oh really? Then I guess I have you to thank for the Blue Suns hounding us too then?"

Ralak simply brushes off the comment. "Listen, I didn't come up here to get into an argument with you, turian. I overheard you talking down in the engine room and I'm starting to doubt if you'll even want my help."

Uncle Leo's stern expression softens somewhat and he raises a brow plate in interest, "And what is it that you're proposing?"

"I've been around Omega a while now and I know some people that can get you the part you need to get this starship in the air again."

"What's in it for you? I don't believe for a second there that you're just helping us out from the good will of your heart."

Ralak rolls his eyes in exasperation, "Look, as much as I hate to admit it, you're my only shot at getting out of this stinking hellhole right now. The sooner you get this ship running, the faster I can get the hell out of here and away from those Blue Suns."

"Fair enough. So where can we find these contacts of yours?"

"I've already set up a meeting place with him. All we have to do is to just make our way over to him. Don't worry about the credits, he owes me a favor and I'm collecting on that favor."

"Fine, but I'm coming along," Uncle Leo says resolutely.

"I get the feeling you still don't trust me after everything I've done for you, turian," Ralak comments dryly.

"I make it a point not to trust anyone here on Omega, let alone a krogan whom the Blue Suns want dead for some reason," Uncle Leo replies.

The krogan chuckles amusedly. "I guess that's only fair. Now come on, grab what you need and let's get going." The krogan makes his way to the stern of the ship where the airlock is.

"Nazreil," Uncle Leo turns to the quarian, "I'm not exactly the best with ship tech but it's a Nashan Dynamics' quantum spark catalyst that we're looking for right? The M800 series?"

"Yep, that's the one we need," Nazreil replies from where he's sitting on the couch adjacent to me.

"Also, another thing while I'm gone. Look after Nate and hold down the fort for me, okay?"

"H-Hold down the fort?" the quarian asks, puzzled.

"What Uncle Leo means is that he just wants you to take care of the ship while he's out with Ralak," I interject, grinning slightly at Nazreil's unfamiliarity to this human phrase.

"Oh sure thing, Mr. Leo!" he replies.

I watch as Uncle Leo joins Ralak at the airlock, the turian rummaging through the storage lockers lined up next to the airlock in search for their respective weapons. Uncle Leo emerges with a pistol and the shotgun taken from the merc base, keeping the latter for himself and – after some deliberation – handing the pistol over to Ralak to which the krogan begrudgingly accepts. Both of them fasten their weapons to holsters that Uncle Leo also scoops out from the locker. I guess it doesn't hurt to be packing heat on Omega just to be safe. Satisfied, he hits the airlock door release and with the soft hiss of pneumatics, the doors slide open and the two exit the ship….. leaving Nazreil and I alone for the time being.

There's a moment of silence as I slump back into the couch to consider our current predicament, effectively abandoning my channel surfing escapades. "Wait, so the Vanguard's engines are disabled? Since when?" I ask Nazreil, a little surprised at this revelation.

He's a little taken aback by my sudden question but he answers, all the while anxiously rubbing his gloved hands on the rag, "Yeah, the guys that were chasing us on the Citadel sabotaged the engines. Thankfully we got back to the ship on time before they could do any real damage."

"So, until we get a replacement part for that spark catalyst thingamajig, we're stuck here on Omega? Why didn't I know about this before?"

"Between the part where you're unconscious for almost three days after the Citadel and the way that you…you know," he struggles to find the right words to say, "stormed off after that fallout with Mr. Leo, we just didn't have time to tell you about it, I guess."

"Oh…." I say a bit remorsefully, "you must have heard from it from Uncle Leo then."

"Yeah, we were combing the whole of Omega for almost two days after you disappeared."

I sigh deeply, feeling the ache of guilt stabbing through my heart. "Listen, I'm sorry for acting like a real jerk back then…and for always getting us into all sorts of mess. I know it must suck having to put up with all the trouble that keeps finding me."

Nazreil leans back into the couch and his voice suggests a smile underneath that visor of his. "Honestly, this wasn't really quite what I expected my Pilgrimage to be. Sure, it was scary at first leaving the Migrant Fleet and being dropped off in a whole new place with nothing more than a few credits, a pistol for self-defense and the clothes on my back," Nazreil glances up at the ceiling, no doubt reminiscing those early days of his Pilgrimage. "But once you start getting used to it, the initial thrill wears off and you realize that the world outside the Flotilla isn't all that you think it is."

"Oh? And what did you think the world was like?" I press on and suddenly, I realize I haven't had the chance to really talk to Nazreil and get to know the guy. I might as well make the most out of this then, seeing as we pretty much having nothing else to do.

"I've always dreamt that there's a whole galaxy's worth of excitement and adventure waiting out there for me. But keelah, experiencing it first-hand is another thing altogether. I've had to learn the hard way that we quarians aren't exactly….the most _welcomed_ of races in Citadel space."

"Really? I find that hard to believe seeing as how you're so nice and all."

He lets out a small chuckle at that. "You see, most people see us as vagrants, a nomadic civilization living on a fleet of ships without a home planet to call our own. Others think we're little more than annoying pests who travel from system to system trying to live off whatever we manage to scavenge and get our hands on."

"Oh wow, so your entire people live onboard ships for the rest of your lives?" I say to which Nazreil gives a small nod. "Man…that must be rough. I know what it feels like to have to move from place to place all the time."

"It's even worse on the Flotilla, considering that some of our ships are almost hundreds of years old. In order to survive, we scavenge what other species think is trash. If it's useful, we fix it up and bring it back on board, either to repair our ships or to be used as household commodities." He later adds, "Oh, and it's why young quarians have their Pilgrimages too – it's both a coming of age ceremony and also an opportunity for us to bring back something that the Flotilla sorely needs."

Wow, and to think my life sucked. A few minutes of conversation with Nazreil is enough to make me see just how lucky I am compared to him and his people. "Still, that only makes me feel a whole lot worse knowing that we've just made your life a whole lot more difficult ever since you decided to tag along with Uncle Leo and me."

"Oh, no! Don't be!" the quarian gets all flustered up as he tries to reassure me, "Like I said before, it's a good thing I bumped into you when I did. Remember how I said life outside the Flotilla wasn't quite what I thought it would be?"

"Yeah…."

"Well, it just so happens that I was having the worst of luck since I started my Pilgrimage when you two found me. I got mugged when I first arrived on the Citadel, losing everything I had. Because of that, I couldn't pay for a place to stay in and I even had to literally beg for credits to afford a meal," he mutters a little dejectedly.

"Dude, I can't even….I mean.…wow," I manage to get out, completely at a loss of words.

"And I wasn't even looking forward to working with Devlon Industries. The pay was horrible, the hours were long, the accommodations were beyond terrible – but I guess that what's you get for offering yourself up as cheap labor."

"Then I guess it's good that we found you when we did. I can't even imagine what living like that must have been like for you," I reply sympathetically.

Nazreil pauses for a while and lets out a sigh. "You two gave a complete stranger – a quarian, no less – a place to stay and meals to eat while I worked on getting my Pilgrimage back on track. That's more than anyone would have offered, so it's the least I can do to help out in any way I possibly can," gratitude colors his voice as he speaks again. "Even if it means occasionally getting shot at."

That comment of his brings a small smile to my face. Nazreil might be a shy and timid guy, but he's dead serious when it comes to returning a favor…I wonder if all quarians are like that.

"But enough about me, how are you holding up?" Nazreil turns to me and motions to the rolls of bandages adorning almost every part of my body.

"This?" I pull my shirt and inspect the bandages, "It's really starting to annoy me…and they're starting to itch real bad. But other than that, I'm feeling a whole lot better now. Most of the pain's gone and I'm able to move around without too much trouble."

"That's good to know. Quite frankly, I'm really amazed at just how much of a beating your body can take. Keelah, you were still able to jump across rooftops while you were in that state," Nazreil says in awe.

I feel my cheeks starting to flush so I quickly reply, "Nah, the medi-gel really helped a lot in numbing the pain though. Plus, anyone can do all sorts of crazy things when they have to choose between certain death and a bullet in the back no?"

"True enough," the quarian says, amused.

I'm just about to pick up the remote again and resume my senseless channel surfing until I remember the omni-tool in my hand. More specifically, the video gaming suite I've uploaded onto it. "Hey, you ever played the Code of Honor games?" I excitedly ask Nazreil.

"No, but I've seen some friends of mine playing it back on the Flotilla. Why?" he replies, his tone wary at this query of mine.

"Oh, just thought you might want to play some of it while we're waiting to pass the time. The latest installment in the series, Medal of Duty's pretty awesome too. Care to play a few rounds with me?" I can barely contain my excitement now. Given all that's happened in the past couple of days, I haven't really had the time to play a single game. But it'll be nice falling back onto a familiar past-time of mine; a remnant of my former life. Great, the more I think about it, the more I'm itching to frag some players online.

"Alright, I don't see why not. We've got nothing better to do anyways until Mr. Leo and that krogan returns with the parts."

After some difficulty syncing the game on my omni-tool to the holoscreen and then connecting to the public extranet channels of Omega, we finally get the game running. Thank goodness Nazreil's a whiz when it comes to technology; we'd never be able to start up the game otherwise.

The opening cinematics for the game complete with the pulse-pounding music typical of all AAA blockbuster game franchises raucously fill the screen. The familiar 'Code of Honor' words and its main menu interface soon emblazon themselves on the holoscreen. I set my omni-tool to project a holographic gamepad that's nestled in my hands. Nazreil does the same too but his gamepad's configured to his three-fingered physiology.

It doesn't take too long for us to hop into a random match and get a game going. Surprisingly, there's a decent amount of game lobbies here on Omega too. We're both sorted into opposing teams and it looks like your basic Team Deathmatch game type. Good, I need to warm-up before I start bringing the pain on the more advanced game modes.

"You know, your Uncle Leo really cares a lot for you," Nazreil mutters absent-mindedly to me, his attention still focused on the holoscreen ahead as the match starts.

"Yeah, I know. We've been together for as long as I can remember, ever since my real dad left me when I was five," I reply, eyes trained on the game as I pull off a headshot with my sniper rifle.

"Mr. Leo was really worried about you ever since you were knocked unconscious when we left the Citadel. You should've seen him…he stayed at your side throughout the entire time you were asleep. I even had to persuade him to get some rest and something to eat."

Nazreil's words throws off my concentration for a bit to which my character gets caught in the blast radius of a grenade. I feel the guilt worming its way through me again so I decide it's best to just tell Nazreil how I really felt. "Yeah….I know. This isn't the first time I've made him worried sick. I've done it plenty of times before but never this bad."

"You're one real lucky person, Nate. I can tell that Mr. Leo's always been there for you."

"He's the only family I've got. Heck, he's more than just my foster parent, he's the closest thing I have to a father. I know it can't be easy for him trying to raise a human son, but god…he tries so hard," I put down my controller for a bit as emotions start welling up within me. "But you probably wouldn't understand me when I say that it's recently been a rough couple of years."

"Try me. I _have _seen a lot of unusual things during my Pilgrimage."

"It's just that…well, it always feels like he's holding something from me that he doesn't want me to know. If you've only known what our life together was like, you can tell that Uncle Leo's hiding something from me – as if it'll protect me if I'm kept in the dark. Those guys that were chasing us on the Citadel, I bet that's got something to do with it."

"Have you tried talking to him about it? It usually helps. I do it all the time with my family back on the Flotilla. With our circumstances, we can't really afford to have conflicts with each other."

"You see, I've tried. I really have, but I always get stonewalled whenever I bring up the subject with him. You know how it is with turian stubbornness and all. The trip to the Citadel's the closest thing I have to getting some answers from him but we all know how that turned out, don't we?"

"With lots of bullets, running and explosions," and ironically, as if to illustrate his point, Nazreil's quarian character fires off a deadly burst from his assault rifle, igniting several fuel cells that explode in a dazzling display of digital fire and smoke. He scores a double kill in the conflagration.

"So you'll understand why I get all riled up wherever the topic is concerned. That outburst a couple of days ago…well, I'm just so sick and tired of why Uncle Leo just can't tell me the truth. How much can it possibly hurt?"

"Well, I'm sure he has his reasons and if it's to protect you, I'm betting it's a pretty good one. But if what you say is true, that it's something to do with the guys on the Citadel, I don't think Mr. Leo can afford to hide it any longer. You just have to be patient."

"I know...but I've been patiently waiting for him to tell me for years now. I guess I can wait just a little longer." With several button presses on my gamepad, I trigger my character's adrenaline rush ability to slow down time and pull off three kills in rapid succession. "But in hindsight though, I guess I was being a dick to Uncle Leo when all he's trying to do is protect me."

"Yeah, we do a lot of things for the people we love," Nazreil mutters, his voice sounding distant.

"I think I owe Uncle Leo an apology after all that I've put him through. I can't even begin to imagine what those past few days must have been like for the poor old turian.

"You do that once he gets back. But right now, you might want to focus on the game. Because I'm…..what's the human expression?"

I return my attention to the holoscreen and notice his in-game character pummeling the living daylights out of mine with the butt of his assault rifle. I quickly bring up the score tab and see that Nazreil's already on top of the opposing team's scoreboard.

"…Kicking my ass?" I reply somewhat reluctantly.

"Exactly," the quarian gleefully remarks. I don't need to see underneath that visor to tell that Nazreil's already beaming like an idiot.

Oh, it's on.

It must have been a couple of hours before Uncle Leo and Ralak return, lugging along a large and bulky case with them. They struggle a little with getting the case through the airlock doors and onto the ship before setting it down.

"I have to say, I'm surprised the whole exchange went better than expected," Uncle Leo pants from the exertion.

"What can I say, I work miracles. Too bad I can't cure the genophage," Ralak humorlessly replies. Good to know his sarcasm's intact.

"I was seriously expecting another shootout but thank the spirits I didn't have to kill any more of these punks on Omega."

"Like I said, the guy owed me a favor. A hugefavor…and you know what, turian? Not everyone on Omega's a cold-hearted, opportunistic murdering bastard."

Uncle Leo grunts a little in disbelief, "He was just the exception to the rule, nothing more. Now help me get the catalyst into the engine room. The sooner we get going, the better for all of us."

"Now that's something we can both agree on," Ralak remarks as he lifts one side of the case almost effortlessly.

Nazreil and I stare up from where we're still playing on the couch. We've just finished a match and are waiting for the next game to start. "I think I've had enough fun for today. We'll play some other time," and with that, Nazreil disconnects his gamepad and leaps over the couch to help with moving the case.

"Not bad for someone who's _never _played the game before," I say to him, making air quotations with both my hands to emphasize my point. We played fifteen matches and I barely beat him with eight wins to seven. What's more, he's come out on top for almost every single match and that's saying something given the skill levels of the players here on Omega.

"Well, what can I say? I lied," he replies almost sheepishly while he fumbles with the handle on Uncle Leo's side of the case. "It's okay, Mr. Leo, I can help Ralak bring it down to the engine room."

"Oh, you don't have to. I got this, you just continue whatever it is that you and Nate were doing," Uncle Leo says through gritted teeth, voice straining with the exertion.

"Mr. Leo, I insist. You just lie down and rest up. It can't be easy lugging the catalyst all the way back to the ship," Nazreil says, a little bit concerned for the turian.

"You don't say! Guess who did most of the heavy lifting?" Ralak chimes from where he's already descending down the stairwell to the engine room.

Uncle Leo ignores the comment and breathes a sigh of immense relief as he relinquishes the handle to Nazreil.

"The tiny quarian's even stronger than you are, turian!" comes Ralak's deep guffaws from the stairwell.

"Just watch where you're going, krogan! And be sure not to drop it on your toes. Those things don't exactly come cheap!" Uncle Leo retorts to a still laughing Ralak.

Nazreil gives me an encouraging look and motions to Uncle Leo before disappearing down the stairwell together with Ralak's throaty laughs. Gee, he really is a nice guy.

There's a little bit of an awkward silence as Uncle Leo crosses over into the kitchen and pulls up a chair to sit in. I bite my lips a little, trying to muster up the courage and think of what to say to him. Nothing comes to mind, so I'll probably just wing it. I struggle to sit up from the couch, what not with the limited mobility from all those bandages wrapped around me. Uncle Leo must have heard me as he quickly rushes over to my side, lending a helping talon which I thankfully grab to hoist myself up.

I get a good look at the disheveled turian and the guilt constricts my heart a little bit more after seeing the sorry state Uncle Leo's in. Blood-shot eyes, drooping mandibles and a face that looks like it's aged so much in the days since I last saw him. That's it, there's no way I'm putting him through this ever again. Not now, not ever.

"Hey, Uncle Leo? I…I just," I start to speak, but words can't seem to come out from my mouth.

"Yes, Nate? What is it?" he places a reassuring talon over my shoulder and nothing but concern is reflected in those eyes of his.

"About the way I behaved a few days ago….and that outburst of mine…" I stutter.

There's a sense of acknowledgement in his eyes as his memory flashes back to that fallout we had. "It's all in the past now, just let it go, Nate," he drops his voice down and the sound of it is enough to rupture the dam of emotions building up in me.

"I just want to say….I'm sorry." The torrent of emotions just bursts forth, filling up my entire being. "I'm so, _so _sorry for everything that I've had to put you through," I choke up, feeling the hot beads of tears starting to streak down my cheeks.

He looks at me and his mandibles widen in a remorseful smile. "Don't be, Nate. It's not your fault. In any case, it's mine. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"There you go again, taking the blame for everything that I do and putting up with all this crap. It's just not fair," I continue on, tears blurring the edges of my vision.

Uncle Leo pulls me into a hug, his warm body pressed against mine and I revel in the safety and security that his fatherly presence brings to me. I bury my face into his plated shoulder and just let the tears run free.

"No really, Nate. This time, I'm the one who should be sorry. I've always thought that I'd be protecting you if I didn't tell you the truth," his flanging voice speaks again and it's the most soothing sound to ever grace my ears. "But as in turns out, I was wrong. I was wrong to have lied to you all these years. You deserve a right to know because that's no way to be living a life – to be forever kept in the dark."

"It doesn't matter anymore, Uncle Leo. Just so long as the both of us are safe, I'm more than happy with the way we are."

"I know, but still, you deserve to know the truth."

I pull out from the hug and look him right in the eyes. "Really?"

"Absolutely," the old turian cracks a smile, this time really meaning it. "But I don't think you'll like what you find…especially not in this state you're in. Come find me when you're sure you're absolutely ready to talk about it."

"Okay…" I bring my hands to wipe the tears off of my face. "Can I at least know where we're going next once we leave this place?"

Uncle Leo reaches a talon to my cheeks to wipe a stain that I missed.

"Eden Prime."

* * *

**Author's notes: And...I should be concluding the Omega arc of my story in the next chapter. Hope I haven't dragged it out too long. Well, if you haven't figured it out yet, this is where things are finally going to start picking up with the events of Mass Effect 1. Oh, things are going to get interesting alright especially when a certain Commander's involved. Hur hur. **

**As usual, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and thanks so much for reading! See you guys around next week! **


	14. Revelations

**Author's notes: Sorry for getting this chapter up later than I expected. And because of that, I really apologize for those who've been patiently waiting for this update. **

**Anyways, the chapter's all up and ready now. And I just want to thank subsider34 for the reviews! I really do appreciate the fan feedback. **

**So this chapter will be dedicated to Eden Prime, but the place will not be exactly like how the game portrays it to be. The Eden Prime presented both in Mass Effect 1 and 3 was ONLY at the Prothean dig site, but I plan to take Nate's adventures elsewhere on the planet. Like I said before at the outset of my story, I plan to explore and further flesh out the universe so I plan to visit the capital city of Eden Prime, Constant (as stated on the Mass Effect wiki) But that doesn't mean I won't be staying completely away from the dig site though, so keep an eye out. **

**I've tried to stay canon to the city's description as in the Codex and the Wiki though, so I hope I manage to accomplish that. Several interesting plot lines will be developed here too. **

**Mass Effect is property of Bioware and I own only the characters in this fic, unless stated otherwise.**

**Okay, I've gone on long enough, so enjoy ME:Remnants! **

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 13 - Revelations

I step out of my room after a long nap, feeling refreshed and more relieved than I've ever been in the past couple of days. The ship's living quarters is darkened, save for the light spilling in through the vessel's side windows which casts an orange gloom over the ship. I take a glance out the window and see the perpetually haze-choked Omegan skyline beyond. Is it always night out in Omega?

"The station's entered its night cycle a few hours ago. The days are a lot shorter here than you're used to on Earth," a flanging voice speaks, as if answering the question on my mind.

The voice startles me and I turn my attention towards the kitchen area to spot Uncle Leo. He sits there all by his lonesome self, a glass and a bottle of turian wine out on the table. His head rests atop his folded talons as he stares off out the window, his gaze distant and far-off.

"God, Uncle Leo. Have you even slept at all?" I ask, genuinely concerned for his well-being.

His mandibles widen in an amused smile, and motions that I come sit next to him. I make my way over to him, my soft footfalls interspersing with the steady thrum of the ship's life support system. "Don't worry about your old uncle here. I've managed to get some shut eye while you were asleep," he takes a small swig from his glass, "Speaking of which, did you sleep okay?"

I guess he must be referring to the bandages dressing up my wounds. "I've never felt better," and even by just saying it, I know it's true. The physical pain I can deal with, but the guilt and the heartache that's been eating away at me – that's a whole different story altogether. Having finally apologized to Uncle Leo has really cleared up my thoughts and put me at ease.

"Ah, that's good to hear. You're not in too much pain, I hope?"

"It's nothing that a couple of painkillers won't fix, so don't worry about it."

The turian acknowledges this with a smile before taking another sip of the wine. "So I guess you're here to finally get some answers?"

Given the state of mind I'm in and the fact that we're all alone right now so we can talk in private, this is as good an opportunity as we're going to get. "Only if you think that I'm ready."

He takes a deep swig of the glass and empties its content before replying. "Oh believe me when I say that you are. I've just been looking for the right moment to break it to you….which as you can see, I've never quite found."

I give a light-hearted chuckle. "I guess my antics probably didn't help matters much, now did it?"

"Well, maybe a little but I don't blame you for it." Uncle Leo uncorks the bottle and pours out more of the blue liquid into his glass. "Frankly, there's no guarantee that I can find the right words to put this as pleasantly as possible….so are you still sure you want to go through with this?"

"I'm sure," I resolvedly answer.

He shakes his head slightly in amusement. "You're just as stubborn and headstrong in search for answers like your father." He takes a deep breath, "Well then, here goes."

This is it, the moment of triumph. Questions that have been nagging at me from all those years ago, they're finally getting answered. A life constantly on the move, the shattering of an idyllic lifestyle in New Madison, leaving Earth and the pursuit all the way to the Citadel; I can finally make some sense of those events at last. Even if the answers aren't what I'm expecting, it'd be nice to finally have at least some sense of closure.

"As you can tell, no doubt, that you're no ordinary human child."

"You don't say, Uncle Leo. I have a turian as the closest thing to a dad, I'm ditching school for an intergalactic space voyage and now I'm rooming with complete alien strangers, I'd say that counts as falling short of ordinary. But that's not always necessarily a bad thing," I smirk.

He nods along and continues, "But…well, how should I say this….you're more _special_ than you think you are."

I raise an eyebrow, puzzled. "What do you mean, Uncle Leo?"

"Let's just say that you're not completely 100 percent made up of human DNA," Uncle Leo takes another deep draught of his wine and sets the glass down before resuming, "You're a genetic experiment, Nate. And a very valuable one at that."

"Wha…what?" I can see that things are definitely starting to take a turn into the weird zone.

"You're a product of some manipulation with the human genetic code that your dad worked on. Now I can't really delve into all the scientific details here seeing as that I only worked security for your dad back in the day, but from what I can tell, you're a product of a lifetime of his work."

Okay….I really didn't see that one coming. "Come on, Uncle Leo, you must be joking right. Me, some sort of a scientific experiment?" I ask skeptically. I would almost have laughed if it isn't for the serious expression on Uncle Leo's face.

"Tell me, Nate, I'm sure you must have experienced some things that you can't explain. Doesn't that even get your curiosity?" Uncle Leo leans towards me, his eyes locking on mine.

I think back to those weird, ominous nightmares that I keep having – those end-of-the-galaxy prophecies of some kind that recurs with frightening clarity. Also, the sheer resilience of my body to that much pain and punishment also strikes me as rather odd. Oh, and how could I forget that little 'biotics' display back in the fighting ring with Ralak. Uncle Leo's words bring all these events to the forefront of my memory again, but I'm viewing it now in a whole different light. There's no way I should be capable of any of those feats unless he's telling the truth.

I finally relent in acknowledging his words, but it doesn't make it any easier for me to accept the implications of what he's saying. "Come to think of it, there have been times when…things like that happen. Things that I shouldn't even be capable of," I finally admit. "Like these dreams I've been having these past few weeks now, ever since before we left New Madison."

The turian places a concerned talon on my arm. "Dreams? What kind of dreams?"

"I dunno. Some vision of total galactic destruction or something," I respond as I jar my memories to recall those uncomfortable dreams.

Uncle Leo's expression turns grave as he gives my arm a gentle squeeze. "Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"It was just a bad dream, Uncle Leo. That's all it is….right?" But even as the words leave my mouth, I know that it's not true. With the similar way in which the dreams always play out and how much more vivid and intense they are, I'm starting to have my doubts.

"Your dad told me to watch out for the manifestations of these symptoms," Uncle Leo sighs and I feel a slight pang of anger at that. What else have they been lying to me about? "Well, it's all the more reason we need to get you to Eden Prime then."

"But why on Eden Prime? Can't you just tell me everything right here, right now?" I plead on a bit more impatiently. "Okay, so assuming that I'm some sort of lab experiment that you claimed me to be, but why was I created in the first place? And what has this got to do with Dad leaving us all those years ago?"

"Okay, calm down, Nate. Like I said before, I don't know all the scientific details about your dad's research. As far as I can recall after all these years is that your dad found some kind of gene sequence on Eden Prime which he infused into your DNA matrix," the turian furrows his brow plates as he tries to remember the details. "And as to why you were created, I always thought it was just some sort of scientific breakthrough that your dad was working on. Apparently, you're valuable enough a breakthrough that some parties are willing to kill for."

The weight of Uncle Leo's words hit hard as I find myself trying to swallow down my anger and disbelief. So that's it? I'm supposed to take his word for it that I'm some sort of creation grown in a laboratory somewhere? Whatever truth that Uncle Leo's telling, I'm flat out denying them all on account of the sheer absurdity of it. The mention of Dad and his part in all of this isn't helping matters much either.

"Uncle Leo, are you really being serious with me?" I say through gritted teeth. "I asked for answers and I wasn't expecting whatever far-fetched crap that you're feeding me right now."

"I know it's a lot to take in, Nate. But if it's any help, you'll be able to see for yourself what I'm saying once we get to Eden Prime."

I turn away from the turian's gaze, too disgusted to even meet his eyes. After everything that we've been through, and this is the half-cooked lie that he's telling me with a straight face? I want to believe him, I really do but the premise of it all is just too absurd for me to wrap my head around. A case of mistaken identity or somebody with a grudge against Uncle Leo I can understand, but this? This is just taking things too far to even be funny anymore.

A soft yet commanding tone which I hardly ever hear Uncle Leo use reels me back in to face the reality of my situation.

"Look, I'm not asking you to take my word for it. All I'm asking for is that you be patient enough until we get to Eden Prime. Aurania's waiting for us there and she'll get you all the proof you need."

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. Rationalizing the situation, I really don't want to take all my frustration and lash it out at Uncle Leo again; it's not his fault that he's been put into this situation and besides, the poor turian deserves a break from all the emotional distress I've been placing him under the past couple of days. "Okay…you have yourself a deal, Uncle Leo."

I decide that there's no use getting all worked up over this. He's confident enough that whatever's on Eden Prime will back his claims, no matter how ridiculous they are. If it's all another big lie to keep me in the dark again, he'll really be regretting it once I find out. And if it's not….I'd rather not think about the implications.

"That's…good to know," Uncle Leo breathes out a sigh of relief.

Something else catches my attention however and I bring it up, "Wait. You said something about someone named Aurania. Is this the same Mrs. Talliscon that we were supposed to meet on the Citadel?"

"Yeah, the one and the same. Eden Prime was supposed to be our next stop after the Citadel but we had to take a detour to Omega to lay low and lose our pursuers."

"Oh…."

A moment of silence hangs in the air between the two of us. Uncle Leo takes one last draught of his wine and reaches to stopper the wine bottle. I'm still fuming on the inside, but I try not to let it show on my expression.

"Thanks for understanding, Nate. It wasn't easy for me to get it all out there and I know it couldn't have been easy for you to have to find out about it the way you did," he flashes a sympathetic smile. He sounds almost a thousand years old when saying it; his voice all weary and drained.

The sight of those awkwardly-stretched mandibles extinguishes whatever anger I have left inside of me. The fight just goes out of me in an instant, replaced with sympathy for this turian who's been there for me since I was five. I return his smile with one of my own. "Don't mention it, Uncle Leo….You know, I really am grateful for this talk we had."

"Likewise."

He gets up from his chair and stores the wine bottle back in one of the cabinets before depositing the glass into the kitchen sink. "Well then, now that we're both awake, what say I take you out for some of those shooting lessons I've promised to give you? We'll continue the engine repairs once Nazreil's up and awake. He deserves the rest after all those hours of dismantling the broken spark catalyst."

My heart skips a small beat in elation. "I thought you'd never ask. So, what are we waiting for?"

"Just let me change into something a little more comfortable before heading out. And this time, stay close to me okay?" he calls out from behind me as he heads into the bedroom.

"You got it, Uncle Leo," I reply, genuine happiness reflected in my voice.

* * *

The door to his personal quarter slides open, prompting Wilkins to glance upwards from his desk. His assistant, David walks in with a datapad in hand, his brisk pace suggesting that an important matter has arisen. He stops in front of the desk and curtly hands over the datapad for Wilkins to read.

"Sir, there's been an update on the target's next destination."

Wilkins scans over the words of the target and his turian guardian's recorded conversation before a single line of text jumps out at him.

"Eden Prime, huh? Interesting….." Wilkins scratches his chin in curiosity.

"Awaiting your orders, sir." David attentively stands before him.

Seeing as how everything's all going to plan, Wilkins decides it's time to head on down to Eden Prime himself and get some answers at last. After almost thirteen years of chasing the target, he realizes that he has close to zero idea on why the Shadow Broker wants this kid so bad. And even so, why is there still some information that the Broker's not willing to share with him?

"Tell the field squad to grab their gear and get ready. We move out for Eden Prime at 0800 hours. It'll be more than plenty of time for us to get down there and set up before the target arrives," Wilkins orders. "Oh, and bring Tobias in here. We're going to have a little _chat_ over the mess he left behind on the Citadel. I just want to make sure he doesn't repeat it all over again."

There's a flicker of apprehension in David's eyes but he acknowledges the orders before turning on his heels to leave the room.

Once the doors shut, Wilkins leans back into his chair and powers up his desktop terminal. The screen comes to life and a few strokes of the keyboard buttons bring up the galaxy map. He zooms in on the Exodus Cluster where Eden Prime's located and manages to get a detailed overview of the planet. He scoffs a little at the description offered in the galactic codex.

What could the target possibly hope to find on this little and unassuming agrarian world? But then again, his instincts are telling him that there's something more to this planet than meets the eye. Well, it never hurts to play it safe and be prepared. After all, he does have a vast pool of resources at his disposal. With this in mind, Wilkins opens up a line on his omni-tool to his intelligence specialist.

"Nadya, get me whatever you can find on the planet Eden Prime. Population density charts, local radio transmissions, travel manifests, basically everything you can find."

"Everything, sir?" comes the unsure reply on the other end.

"Was I not clear the first time around?" Wilkins hisses.

"Yes, sir. Right away."

"Let me know immediately if you manage to find anything out of the ordinary with the place." He impatiently disconnects the line so that Nadya doesn't manage to make another redundant query. He lets out a breath of relief that he doesn't even know he's holding in. The past few days have really been taking a toll on him, Wilkins can tell. This is the closest he's come to apprehending the target in years and yet, the boy and the turian have managed to escape all of his successive capture attempts. No wonder he's strung so tight lately.

He reaches for a drawer on his desk and pulls out a bottle of sleeping pills. Downing two of them, he gets up from his chair and shuffles towards the bed that occupies one corner of his quarters. Wilkins knows that he's going to need a good night's rest before deploying tomorrow. Somehow, with all the stress and a gut feeling that tells him that something's not right about Eden Prime, he doubts if he's going to get the shut-eye he sorely needs.

* * *

"Spirits….alright, it's gotta work this time," Uncle Leo anxiously mumbles to no one in particular as he takes his seat in the pilot's chair. Nazreil clutches the seat's headrest in anticipation as Uncle Leo brings up the controls for the Vanguard. I make out Ralak sprawled on the couch in the living quarters while the three of us huddle in the cockpit.

Several command inputs later and a glowing activation prompt appears on the controls. The turian takes a deep breath and exhales before finally pressing down on the prompt button. Nazreil tightens his grip on the couch, the leather squeaking underneath his fingertips.

"Keelah…please work for my sake at least."

I hear the tell-tale thrum of the engines powering up which continues to build in intensity. The sound keeps on building and building, by this point almost echoing the sounds of the last failure at starting the engine.

Uncle Leo's beady eyes narrow in grim anticipation until the thrum suddenly drops down a notch, replaced with the glorious whir of the drive cores kicking into place. His eyes light up and he punches the air in elation.

"Thank the spirits! Success, at last!" Uncle Leo cries out in relief.

There's a slight bounce in Nazreil's footsteps as he does a little jig around the confines of the cockpit before our puzzled looks reins in his self-consciousness. Realizing what he's done, he quickly avoids our gaze, no doubt blushing red underneath that visor.

"Sweet victory dance, Naz," I comment half-jokingly, which flusters him even more. I think I even got a small chuckle out of Ralak.

"Good job on the repair work, Nazreil. I guess that's another one we owe you," Uncle Leo turns around and puts a congratulatory pat on his shoulder.

"Oh….don't mention it, Mr. Leo."

"Alright, now if you boys are ready, we're leaving this place," the turian calls out as his fingers fly deftly across the controls, prepping the Vanguard for lift-off.

Nazreil nods and turns to head on out of the cockpit seeing as we only have two chairs in here. I reach out and grab a hold of his arm. "Hey, you take a seat here with Uncle Leo. You deserve it after all those hours of crawling through pipes and vents to replace the catalyst."

He looks at me and then at the chair, a little unsure of what to do. I give him a reassuring nod and motion to the chair.

"Thanks a lot, Nate. I really appreciate it," he finally replies. "It's been so long since I've last sat in the cockpit of a starship and the chairs look so comfortable too."

"You're more than welcome," I get up and inch my way past him in the rather limited confines of the cockpit.

"Glad to have you aboard, Nazreil. Make yourself comfortable, and pay attention because I'm going to show you just what the Vanguard's capable of," Uncle Leo grins cheekily as he continues preparing the take-off sequence.

I shuffle into the living quarters and finally decide on a seat opposite Ralak. Uncle Leo may have his suspicions about the krogan but there's something about him that tells me he isn't a bad guy.

"Yo, Ralak. Ready to leave Omega?" I ask, attempting to make some small talk with the brutish figure before me.

"More than you'll ever know," he grunts out his response in that usual gruff and non-committal manner of his again.

He folds his arms and turns away from me. "Look kid, if there's something you wanna ask me, then get to the point. If not, stop bothering me. I just need some peace and quiet right now…..and a bottle of ryncol too."

Wow, he's a perceptive one. There actually _has_ been something that I've been meaning to ask him ever since our escape from the Blue Suns compound. Since he brought it up, I might as well just gather up the courage to ask him. "Back in the fighting ring, when I refused to fight you, why did you warn me that it would get into trouble with the Blue Suns?"

Surprisingly, Ralak's taken aback by the question. His expression may not register but I catch a fleeting glimpse of surprise in his eyes. "It was my ass on the line too, kid. They paid me to put on a good show and if I didn't deliver…..well, let's just say that the Blue Suns prefer not to deal with unworthy investments."

"But still, if it was anyone else, they'd just beat me to a bloody pulp right then."

The krogan shuffles a little uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze still not meeting mine. "Then count yourself lucky that you manage to fight your way through to me," he uninterestedly replies.

"Then explain why you saved me on those rooftops when we were running away from the mercs. You could just have bailed on us once Nazreil got those cuffs off," I press on. "Given what I've seen of the people on Omega, they'd sooner rob a total stranger blind and run off than risk their lives helping him."

His indifferent façade finally starts to give way as he fixes his eyes on me. "Look kid, you had a starship which means I can finally get the hell outta here. So it only seems like the logical course of action that I try to keep you all alive to find out where you docked it. No use in hitching a ride aboard a ship when nobody's alive to fly it, now is there?"

"But that was before you even knew we had a ship –"

Ralak interrupts me with a low growl and shoots at me question in return, "How about you explain to me those biotics when you very clearly didn't even have a biotic amp on you?"

"I…" his question completely catches me off guard and I struggle to find the words to answer him.

"Yeah, didn't think so," Ralak grunts. "Take my word for it especially from someone who's lived as long as I have," he pauses for a moment before continuing, "Some people don't always like what they find when they go around fishing for answers. Even less so when they eventually have to come to terms with what they find…..I know I didn't."

I just sit there and let the words sink in. Like it or not, he does have a point. Apart from telling me to mind my own business when it comes to the reason he's aboard this ship, his words kind of foreshadow what I might find down there on Eden Prime. Then, my train of thought drifts back to those early years with Uncle Leo. I see it now – we were already on the run then; I was only just too young to realize it at the time. It was a life in which we were always trying to run away from the truth.

"Well, Uncle Leo and I have been running for as long as I remember and it's done us no good so far," I mutter a bit dejectedly. "Heck, ever since leaving Earth, we've only found even more pain and misery." I think of the days I was sprawled in a semi-coma after leaving the Citadel and the latest debacle here on Omega. "Sure, some of us may not like the answers we seek, but I can't see myself living a life of not knowing the truth about me. For both of our sakes, Uncle Leo and mine's."

Ralak looks on disinterestedly but something I say registers inside of him. "So what do you do when you're not expecting what you find?" he asks, lowering his voice.

"No matter what I find, I guess I'll have to accept it if it's the undeniable and absolute truth. I'm sure it'll take time getting used to it but there's no use living in a lie that you tell yourself because you're afraid to face the reality of the situation."

"Huh…" Ralak unconsciously reaches for the locket that's hung around his thick neck. "Well then, don't come crying to me when you realize I'm right." With that, the krogan gets off the couch and heads to the stairwell at the stern of the ship that leads into the engine compartment. He pauses right at the threshold of the stairwell. "Remind me again where we're headed to next?"

"Eden Prime."

"A human colony bordering the Terminus Systems? Figures." The krogan rolls his eyes at our destination before turning his back to me as he descends the stairwell. That can only mean a good thing, right? It's times like these that I don't appreciate Ralak's sarcasm because it makes him so indifferent about the subject matter being discussed. Anyways, I brush off his comment and just prop my foot up on the other end of the couch. I could really use a nap after staying out so late last night with Uncle Leo for target practice.

I hear the indistinct chatting coming from the cockpit between Uncle Leo and Nazreil and feel the docking bridge disengaging from the hull of the Vanguard. The engines purr steadily beneath me and I feel the downwards pull of inertia as the ship takes off. I chance a look outside the windows to get one last glimpse of Omega. The run-down and ramshackle docking bays peel away underneath me as we bank the ship around to point it towards the endless expanse of deep space. The sight of the towering buildings and asteroid support pillars that make up the heart of Omega slowly disappear behind the edges of the window frame. Good riddance.

"Next stop, Eden Prime!" Uncle Leo calls out from the cockpit. It earns me a small grin, knowing that some semblance of our previous life has at least come back.

The inertia dampeners must have kicked in because I hardly feel a thing even as the ship shoots forward into space at speeds faster than light. The blue aura encasing the ship which I can see from the windows makes for a soothing effect that tugs at my eyelids. The chatter from the cockpit only aids in increasing the weight of my eyelids that I have no choice but to close them.

And when I do, they feel so good.

* * *

Someone jostles me awake a couple of hours later. Thankfully, the nap was uneventful; no end-of-the-world dreams to plague me like they did on so many other nights. I slowly blink my eyes open, trying to shake off the haze of sleep from both my mind and my limbs. I feel the presence of someone standing adjacent to the couch. I crane my head back and look up to see Nazreil leaning against the window who seems to be enthralled by the sight outside.

I struggle to sit up and give a wide yawn, feeling some sensation returning to my still-asleep limbs. Taking Nazreil's cue, I prop myself on the sofa and take a bleary-eyed look outside the window. At first, I see nothing but billowing pillars of white, cotton-like substance in the bright morning sky.

"We're here already? I don't see anything…." I mumble sleepily.

"Wait for it…" Nazreil says to me excitedly.

The Vanguard descends gracefully among the fluffy white clouds before the clouds part to give us a panoramic view of the landscape below. The resplendent sight snaps me awake almost immediately.

"Woah….." both of us exclaim, wide-eyed and mouth agape with awe.

Rolling green hills cloth every single expanse of land that I can see. Lush vegetation dot the surrounding landscape while streams and rivers snake their way across the pastures for what must seem like miles on end. The whole place itself seems to breathe with nature and life. As we get lower, I can make out several man-made constructs and vast agricultural fields. Rather than detract from the pastoral beauty of the place, these artificial elements blend seamlessly into the flora and fauna of Eden Prime. Talk about sustainable environmental development.

I don't even notice Ralak emerging from the stairwell and making his way towards the living quarters. One look at us gawking out the window and he shakes his head in amused exasperation. "Kids these days." He walks past us and stops to look out the opposite window that lines the port hull of the ship.

"Alright, we're going to head into Constant, Eden Prime's capital. You should probably be seeing it soon on the port side of the ship," Uncle Leo calls out.

No sooner than he says that, Nazreil and I rush towards the port window and plant our faces against the glass to admire the view, much to Ralak's disapproving stare and annoyance. The capital city looks to be a lot smaller than the capital cities of Earth, but it is still a pretty impressive sight on its own. Towering buildings that share several distinctive human design elements but are otherwise foreign-looking rise hundreds of feet into the air. As we get in closer though, I can spot lots of natural greenery draped on and interspersed between the glass-paneled sides of each and every building.

"They even use green roof technology!" Nazreil points out excitedly at the sight that puzzles me. "Wow, even the whole capital's made up of arcologies!"

"Arcologies?" I turn to Nazreil, even more confounded now.

"They're special type of buildings that blend both architecture for practical living spaces and ecology for the preservation of the natural environment. Architecture and ecology; hence, arcology!" Nazreil clarifies. "In other words, they're just very green and eco-friendly buildings," he chatters on, excitement gushing at every single word.

Most of the buildings have wide bases that slant upwards to form giant spires, or some variation of the sort, reminiscent of the Eiffel Tower back on Earth. The Vanguard soars around the capital city once before approaching the landing tarmac on the spaceport located at the fringes of the city.

Uncle Leo clears the landing clearance with the local flight control operator and gently pulls the ship in to dock. An hour later, after Uncle Leo and I have showered and freshened up, we're ready to go. By the time I get to the airlock doors to meet up with the rest of the group, Uncle Leo's rummaging through the storage cabinets looking for something. Even Ralak's already there, a bag of his personal belongings and supplies strewn over his back. Before I get the chance to ask, Uncle Leo produces two pairs of some fancy, armored vests.

"They're bulletproof vests, so put them on. Given all the trouble that seems to find us lately, I'd rather not take the chance this time," Uncle Leo explains as he tosses one pair of it to me.

I catch it and inspect the weave of the fabric, noting the small little nodules that run along the entire length of the vest. "What are these?" I motion to the nodules.

"Kinetic barrier emitters," Nazreil says as he steps over to inspect the vest.

"Oh, so they're shields then?" I answer a bit smugly, drawing upon the wealth of knowledge that video games have given me.

"Come on, put it on. Let's not keep Aurania waiting for too long," Uncle Leo badgers me, having already slipped on the vest himself.

I unbutton my outer layer of shirt, another one of Uncle Leo's ill-informed fashion choices, and pull on the vest. It's a snug and comfortable fit, barely noticeable beneath the fabric of my outer shirt. "Wait, how come Nazreil isn't getting one?"

In response to my query, the quarian taps on his envirosuit's armor plating. "My suit already comes with its own kinetic barriers. All quarians get them on their suits before embarking on their Pilgrimage," he points out.

"Huh, I didn't know that."

The airlock doors slide open, soaking all of us in the fresh, pastoral air of Eden Prime. I take a deep breath of the air; its sweet and clear scent wafting through my nostrils. It sure is a nice change from the smoggy air of Omega. We step off the Vanguard and onto the docking platform, squinting a little at the bright sun shining down on us. Guess that's one of the things I need to start getting used now that I'm back among normal civilization again.

"Nazreil, I'm sure you can tag along with us to see Aurania. You could really use the break after helping me with the repair work on Omega. Your hunt for work can wait." Uncle Leo smiles a little at Nazreil.

While the turian's busy with Nazreil, I turn to Ralak, whose sour expression suggests that he's more than eager to get away from here. "Hey, Ralak."

"Yes, kid?" he exasperatedly sighs as he turns his attention to me.

"I know we've only just met, and under the worst of circumstances at that, but thanks. Thanks…..for everything."

He only just grunts, apparently not the type for gratitude and goodbyes. "Yeah, whatever. If there's nothing else now, I've gotta get going. Your uncle's fulfilled his part of the bargain, and it's time I fulfill mine." He picks up his bag and starts heading for the main terminal of the spaceport.

"Wherever it is that you're going next, I hope you'll find what you're looking for too, okay?" I call out after him.

"Yeah, good luck to you too," the krogan replies without so much a glance over his shoulders.

Uncle Leo and Nazreil joins me at my side, the turian putting a comforting talon on my shoulder. "Well, good riddance I say to him. Although, I must admit that he wasn't all that bad for a krogan."

"Yeah…"

"Well then, Aurania's already waiting. We'll probably need to catch a ride downtown."

Under the bright rays of sunshine and warm breeze, the three of us make our way into Constant Intergalactic Spaceport. Now I'm not one for cliché movie quotes that Uncle Leo seems to love so much, but as much as I hate to admit it, I have a meeting with destiny.

* * *

**Author's notes: Hoped you all enjoyed this chapter, as much as I did writing it. It was definitely a nice change of pace from all-out action sequences all the time. Although, I must point out that this chapter was a little rushed, so there might be some spelling or grammatical errors that I've missed. I apologize for that. XD **

**Thanks for reading, and feel free to drop a comment if you guys liked it! **

**Until then, I'll see you guys next week! **


	15. Mrs Talliscon, I Presume?

**Author's Notes: First off, my apologies for missing my deadline last Friday. Summer holidays are here, and I've been busy travelling around. It's such a bitch to get good inspiration to write when you're constantly moving from place to place. So I don't have much time on my hands to actually work on this fic. Just as a heads-up, I'll try to stick to the Friday schedule as much as possible, but updates are gonna be a lot more sporadic from now on out until I get back to my regular schedule. **

**With that said, here's the next installment of Mass Effect: Remnants for my patient readers. Events are really starting to kick off now and this is where things are going to get good.**

**Once again, the Mass Effect franchise is the sole property of Bioware and I own nothing of it whatsoever except for my OCs. **

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 14 – Mrs. Talliscon, I Presume?

Eden Prime. He's gotta hand it to humanity. As one of the first few human colonies established beyond the Charon Relay, the place is absolutely _thriving_. The booming agrarian economy seems to be doing wonders for the populace here and the scenic vistas of this garden world are only an added plus. With verdant hills and green pastures as far as the eyes can see making up your workplace, it'd be a pretty hard offer not to pass up.

However, he just can't see himself getting into that sort of work – it's just too comfortable and docile. People get complacent and lose some form of their determination to achieve greater things. And by losing that drive, they get weak; they become insignificant. As for him, he's got nothing but drive. Why else did he end up in this particular form of employment in the first place?

Wilkins thinks to himself as he paces along one of the main downtown avenues of Constant, several streets away from their base of operations set up in a residential arcology unit. The streets are pristine and clean, lined with natural greenery and the occasional water feature at regular intervals. The majority of its populace is humans although turians, asaris and salarians are a common enough sight although Constant lacks an air of sophistication that the Citadel Presidium – which is the closest equivalent he can think of – possesses.

"Wow, just look at the view!" an asari exclaims to her turian companion, pointing in awe at something above, "You sure picked the right place to spend our vacation, honey!" Intrigued, Wilkins follows her line of sight up to where the tips of the buildings meet the skies.

Dusk encroaches upon the capital city, signaling the beginning of Eden Prime's night cycle. The setting sun and rising moon basks the sky in an otherworldly streak of magentas and violets. The glass-fronted panels of the towering arcologies catch the colors of the dusk, their reflections transforming the buildings into spires of luminescent gems.

Despite the beautiful sight and the tranquil, laid-back atmosphere of the streets below, there is something unsettling which brews in Wilkins' psyche; as if warning him that something big's about to go down in Eden Prime. Over the years, he's learnt to trust his intuition as they're usually right most of the time. But what could possibly go wrong in such a serene garden world like this? The relative calm and sense of safety that the place conveys really makes it an effort to keep his guard up.

"Have you heard? The dig site just out of town has seen a lot of activity lately," Wilkins catches a snippet of a random passer-by's conversation.

He pays it no heed. Right now, the only thing that he needs to focus on is shadowing the kid and finding out what the Shadow Broker isn't telling him. Ordinarily, this isn't that tall of an order but since he's basically going against the Broker's orders, things could get….complicated if the Broker were to hear about it. And these things don't usually go unnoticed by the Broker.

Maybe that's what his gut feeling was all about. Disobeying the Broker's direct orders doesn't usually bode well for anyone. Nevertheless, he's got absolute control over the situation. His team has already gotten a lock on the target who's been seen departing the spacestation just a few hours ago. They also report that apart from the kid's turian guardian, he's been seen travelling with the quarian from back at the Citadel and a krogan they picked up back in Omega. The fact that they're letting random strangers travel with them strikes Wilkins just as a little bit odd. But ever since their arrival in Constant, the kid has been moving all over the city with no definite pattern. They've been heading from one destination to the next, as if searching for something or someone. But after hours of milling about, seems like the kid has finally found what he was looking for.

"Sir, we're already here at the Everglades Tower. The target's headed up to meet Mrs. Talliscon herself in Unit A67," Wilkins' earpiece chatters to life. "This is it, sir. We'll set up the equipment to monitor them while we await your arrival."

Good to know that his men are already there, but he's made it a point to see this operation through in person, partially due to his own curiosity to learn what's so valuable about the kid. After that, it's going to another simple bag-and-tag operation to finally deliver the goods to the Broker. This time, there's not going to be any surprises that can help the target slip from under Wilkins' grasp again.

* * *

Woah, what a view!

The three of us stand in the luxurious elevator car as it shoots up the side of the arcology. Nazreil and I both have our faces, or in the former's case, his visor planted against the glass walls that constitute the four corners of the elevator. At the dizzying height we're now at, we get a bird eye's view of Eden Prime. The dusk sky bathes the outskirts of the city in a beautiful amalgam of purples against green pastures. I can see where the city boundaries melt away to the grid-paneled agricultural farmlands that stretch on for miles. The long shadows cast by lone arcologies out on the farmlands complete the serene view.

"Keelah, I wonder if our homeland looked as beautiful as this," Nazreil mutters a little forlornly with a lowered gaze.

Oh, right. Quarians live on flotillas of ships; I wonder why they never got to go back to their homeworld. "I'm sure it'll look ten times as good," I say as I give a reassuring pat on his back.

"Nate, I know the past couple of weeks haven't been easy to you," Uncle Leo says, fixing a grave look on me. "But you're finally going to get the answers that you're looking for. And I have a feeling that Aurania's not going to sugarcoat it for you. So for both of our sakes, please hear everything that she has to say before jumping to conclusions."

I take a deep breath as Uncle Leo's words finally hit home. The initial anxiety I felt when we first arrived was whittled away somewhat by the long hours we spent hunting for Mrs. Talliscon's residence. Also, the scenic sights of Eden Prime helped distract me a little, allaying my apprehension. But now that we've finally tracked her down, the anxiety rears its ugly head again in full force.

But Uncle Leo does have a point. Given how I almost lost it back on the Vanguard when he told me the truth, I don't know how I'll react to whatever it is that Mrs. Talliscon has to say to me. I'm still giving Uncle Leo the benefit of doubt though, at least until I hear Mrs. Talliscon's side of the story. But as we get closer and closer to her floor, the more the whole prospect of my being a genetic experiment starts to make sense. The turian doesn't seem to be showing any sign of cracking under this big piece of lie he's cooked up, or if he is, he's not showing it.

A cold shill starts creeping up my spine and I can feel myself tingling all over. What if it really is true, that I'm part of some lab experiment that Dad had a part in? That I've had something to do with his disappearance all those years ago? And that those guys who jumped us back in New Madison are trying to capture me? I shake away those thoughts, reminding myself not to jump to conclusions until I see the evidences first hand. But the more I think of it, the less I'm able to convince myself otherwise.

"Come on. Whatever happens, I'll still be here for you. Always." Uncle Leo wraps an arm around my shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze. It calms me down somewhat and strengthens my resolve to face the truth.

"I don't mean to pry into any of your affairs but it sounds like meeting this Talliscon lady is a pretty big deal," Nazreil says. "If I may ask, why are we meeting her in the first place?"

Uncle Leo sighs a little. "Well, you've done good by us so far, Nazreil. It's only right that you know too. Should I tell him, Nate?"

"….Yeah. Okay, he deserves to know too," I hoarsely reply.

"We've been on the run for a good 13 years now, Nazreil. There are people out there who are desperate to get a hold of Nate. He's _special, _in a way, all thanks to the poor kid's father here. And I've been keeping it a secret from him because I thought it could give him a chance at a normal life." He pauses a bit, trying to regain his composure before continuing, "And given just what happened on the Citadel, I'm afraid that's no longer an option. He needs to know the whole truth, and that's what Aurania and I are going to tell him."

Nazreil does a double take at Uncle Leo's revelation. "So…you're telling me that you're all fugitives?" he asks, voice quaking a little.

"No, it's not like that. We're not on the run from the law or anything," Uncle Leo is quick to assuage the quarian's fears.

"That's what I thought. You two don't seem the criminal type or anything. If it's not the law, then who's chasing after Nate?"

"It's the very same people that were after his father and his research. Since he's disappeared 13 years ago, they figured Nate here would be the next best thing, seeing as how he _is_ the research. I'm just hoping Aurania can tell us more about them."

"Keelah….I never knew."

"So yeah…..now you know how messed up my life is right now," I mumble dejectedly.

"Nate, it's never easy to get used to change, especially when the only world you knew gets turned upside down," Nazreil speaks up, no doubt drawing from the experience of his first few days on Pilgrimage. "But sometimes, change can be for the better. And when it is, all we have to do is to learn to embrace it."

I let the words sink in, trying to make sense of it. And you know what, he's right. So I hang on to Nazreil's words for all it's worth. At least it'll help keep me from giving into anxiety. I'm barely trying to keep it together as it is. In this state, I'm afraid one little word will be enough to push me over the edge.

The car starts to slow in its ascent, and sure enough, the display reads the 67th floor. We're here. With a chime, the doors slide open, revealing a short but luxuriously decorated hallway. There are only two residential units on this floor, one of which must belong to Mrs. Talliscon. We exit the elevator, and Uncle Leo stops at the very first door on our left. He reaches for the intercom panel next to the door.

"Aurania, it's Leonus. Sorry for the long wait, but we're finally here," he makes eye contact with me and adds, "Remember what Sunderland said to us before he left? Well, I don't think we can keep that promise anymore."

At first, nothing happens. There's a palpable tension in the air, and my heart's hammering in my chest. I'm starting to have serious doubts now about confronting the truth; maybe I should turn back and return another day when I'm feeling up to it. But no sooner than the thought pops into my head, I hear the faint shuffling of footsteps from inside before the doors slide open. Standing in the threshold is an asari clothed in a white dress and judging from her expression, she looks deeply conflicted about something.

"Aurania!" Uncle Leo exclaims in relief. "It's been way too long. Good to see that you're safe." He crosses into the room and exchanges a brief but emotional hug with her.

"I can say the same for you too, Leonus."

She pulls away from Uncle Leo and turns her attention towards us. Noticing this, Uncle Leo points out, "That's his son right there."

"I swear by the goddess, you look just so much like him," she says in a voice choked up with emotions. Her eyes tear up slightly as she makes to reach her hand out to touch me. Her soft fingertips lightly graze my cheeks. "If only your father could see you now. He'd be so proud of you."

Ordinarily, I'd shy away from total strangers showing me such forms of affection on our first meeting but there's something about this Mrs. Talliscon that strikes me as familiar, as though she's once been a significant presence in my life. Maybe she had been around me when Dad was still here, only that I was too young to remember it at the time. Caught off guard by these turn of events, I can only manage a stumbled reply of a thank you.

"Oh, and who might you be?" she asks as her attention lands on Nazreil.

He gets a little flustered up but introduces himself regardless. "I'm Nazreil'Vaan nar Atwell, a quarian on my Pilgrimage. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, and how did you end up with these two here?" she gestures to Uncle Leo and I.

"It's kind of a long story but suffice to say that I'm trying to repay them back for all the help that they've given to help me complete my Pilgrimage."

"I see. Well, any friend of Leonus here is a friend of mine," she smiles at Nazreil.

I swallow a lump in my throat before I'm able to find my voice again. "Uh, Mrs. Talliscon?"

"Please, just call me Aurania."

"So…Mrs. Aurania, I hear from Uncle Leo that you and my dad were pretty close." Well, since I've managed to broach the subject, I might as well just keep building on the momentum. "I was wondering if you could tell me more about Dad and….what he's done with me."

Her eyes register the same look of conflict as before but Uncle Leo steps to her side and wordlessly nods to her. "Come on in and make yourselves comfortable. And Nate, I….I'll do my best to tell you everything," she says, motioning for us to come on inside.

We step beyond the threshold and into the extravagant penthouse. White is a recurring theme throughout Aurania's entire house. Everything is coated in white or some sort of variation that complements its overall color scheme. The layout of the place echoes the practicality of contemporary human design: the living room, kitchen and bedrooms are exactly where a human would position them to be. However, the furnishings are definitely asari-influenced as attested to by their sweeping curves and graceful arcs incorporated into their designs. The inside is basked in an ethereal haze of purple, illuminated by the light of the setting sun pouring in through the glass-fronted walls that I guess must curve around half the entire apartment unit.

"Leonus, can I please talk to you in private?" She says to Uncle Leo. Then, turning to Nazreil and me, "The two of you can wait for us in the living room. This'll only take a moment."

Nazreil immediately plops himself down in one of the cushy chairs, groaning in relief after hours spent walking all across the city. I take a seat next to him, but my jitteriness makes me decide against it. I get back up on my feet to pace in front of the glass wall, taking occasional glances out at the vista beyond.

"Nate, are you sure you're up to this?" Nazreil asks worriedly.

"Yeah, I mean…no, but I….arghh, I don't know what to feel about it anymore," I say exasperatedly, running my hands through my hair. "I just want to know so badly and yet I'm afraid of what I'll find."

"There's no use putting it off any longer, Nate. Sometimes, it's better to know than be left in the dark." Nazreil shuffles a little in his seat and I turn my head to see Uncle Leo and Aurania approaching us from the hallway that leads off into the bedrooms.

There's hesitance in her steps; I can tell by the way Uncle Leo needs to keep urging her forward. She holds a datapad in her hand and sits on the couch opposite Nazreil. "You might want to take a seat for what I'm about to tell you, Nathaniel. It may be a little overwhelming," she speaks somberly

I gulp as I slowly take my seat next to Nazreil. The whole passage of time seems so hazy and sluggish now. Even my vision becomes all tunnel-shaped like. I'm only able to focus on the datapad while my mind blurs out everything in the periphery.

"Should I be telling all this in front of the quarian too?" Aurania asks Uncle Leo, unsure.

"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Nazreil. I think he deserves to know. We owe him that much, at least."

"Okay then," she takes a deep breath, and hands the datapad over to me, which I accept with shaking hands. "Turn it on, Nathaniel."

The datapad looks a lot more sophisticated than the ones I've seen before but I do as I'm told. As soon as it flickers to life, a screen jumps off the datapad and suspends itself in mid-air in front of me. Displayed ominously on the screen, are the sole words, 'Project Remnant'. "Wha…what is this?" I ask, trying to do all I can to keep a steady head.

"There's no easy way to put it but what your Uncle Leo said to you before was true. You're the result of a genetic experiment conceived by the three of us almost 20 years ago," Aurania confesses.

So Uncle Leo wasn't lying to me after all. "If…if I am a genetic experiment, what makes me so valuable from the thousands of similar ones out there?" I drop my voice now, "Why are people willing to kill Uncle Leo just to get to me?"

A look of hurt crosses her features but she forges on. She reaches both hands out to the suspended screen and swipes her hands apart to produce two more out from the single screen. Now, I see three screens displaying various bits of data and figures about something…biological. There's what I presume must be an analysis of a DNA sequence, a timeline of cellular growth and several pictures of some sort of fossilized remains, to name a few. At my side, Nazreil leans forward in curiosity at these images.

"You're valuable, even more valuable than you think because you represent a scientific feat that no one has managed to accomplish before." She takes another deep breath and delivers the line that rocks to me to my core, "You're part Prothean, Nathaniel. You're a living testament to a successful synthesis of Prothean gene sequence into that of a sentient organism."

At that very moment, the very passage of time itself seems to stop. The world slowly dissolves away from my awareness as I can only hang on to the few words that left Aurania's mouth. I'm part Prothean – the extinct, most technologically-advanced race in the galaxy. The race that built the mass relays and are responsible for the mass effect technology widespread across the galaxy today. But that's impossible. For one thing, I don't feel all Prothean-like at all. Last time I looked at myself in the mirror, I'm one hundred percent sure that I look totally human.

"That can't be right," I stutter. "This….this must all be a dream. There's no way I can be a Prothean. I'm just a normal, 18-year old human kid from Earth who wants nothing more but to lead an ordinary life!" I yell out the last few words all while starting to choke up on the inside.

"You can lie to yourself all you want, Nathaniel. But it won't change the truth. Even the data in front of you says it all. The logs of our discovery, the analyses of the DNA gene sequence, the method of synthesis, it's all there," Aurania manages to calmly respond to my outburst.

"Nate, it's a lot to take in, believe me, I know," Uncle Leo speaks up in an attempt to calm me down.

"So….all these years, you've been monitoring me? For every single day of my waking life?" I ask accusingly.

"Not so much as monitoring, but protecting you from whomever it is that's been hunting you down." Aurania rubs her brow as she considers something, and then adds, "And I believe that these are the same people that have been looking for you for the better part of 13 years."

"13….13 years?" I say in disbelief. "We've been on the run for 13 whole years?" I turn to Uncle Leo. "Why didn't you tell me anything? Is that why we've been moving all across the country for all those years? It's not because of your job or anything, but it's because we're trying to run away?" And then another thought occurs to me because the timing of the events is too uncanny to be coincidence. 'That's why Dad left, didn't he?" I feel all the emotions draining out of me as I voice out this query of mine, leaving me feeling so tired on the inside.

"No, it wasn't your fault, Nate. You did nothing wrong, so don't you dare go thinking that you did," Uncle Leo says resolutely.

"Your father…..he didn't deserve any of this at all." Aurania's eyes become downcast and she averts my gaze.

"He was a very brave man, Nate. Even more so than most of the turians I've served with back in the military. He gave up so much trying to ensure that you tried to lead a normal life – so that you didn't have to pay for the mistakes he's made," Uncle Leo's tone softens as he says it.

"What mistakes?" I let a lone teardrop streak down the side of my cheeks. "It was me, wasn't it?"

"One thing's for sure. It wasn't you. You're the best thing to have ever happened to us all those years ago." Aurania flashes me a somber smile. "You were more than just the result of years of labor, Nathaniel. Your father treated you like his very own son."

"If he really did, why did he run out on Uncle Leo and I? Did he think he was protecting me by abandoning us?"

I feel the rubbery linings of Nazreil's gloved hand against the back of my shoulder. "Sometimes, family do all sorts of crazy things for your own good. Even if you may not understand their reasons for it at the time."

"I….I know," I finally give in at last, trying to stop this train of thought about Dad. It's bringing back too many uncomfortable memories that I don't think I'm ready to face just yet. So I turn to another issue which I feel can at least get a grip on. "Can you at least tell me why I was created in the first place?"

Aurania reaches over and takes the datapad off my hands. I can see that telling me this is just as equally hard for her. She tries to recompose herself before continuing. "At first, it was purely nothing more than an intellectual pursuit. Imagine, being the first ones to make an unprecedented contribution to the scientific community dedicated to studying the Protheans by understanding them in a whole different light. Knowing just how mysterious and cryptic a race they are, they didn't leave much in the way of relics for us to examine and study. Therefore, this is where you came in."

My whole body clenches in anticipation at what is to come. "Your father and I believed that Prothean gene sequences held in them the essences of the Prothean's own life experiences. By incorporating it into the human DNA matrix, the most adaptable matrixes of all sentient species in the galaxy, we hoped to create a communicable avatar to relay to us these experiences. By doing so, we can learn so much about the Protheans that we never thought possible." There's a small hint of elation in her voice as she says it. "We'll finally be able to understand their culture, their society but most importantly of all, the true nature of to their extinction."

She takes another breath, weary from the explanation. Sensing this, Uncle Leo sits next to her, offering his shoulder which she slumps her head onto. "We thought it was all for the sake of knowledge…..goddess, we couldn't have been more wrong."

Uncle Leo picks up where Aurania left off, seeing as the toll of telling me all this is too much for her to bear. "Right about the time when they made a breakthrough with you, your father has been acting weirdly. As if there was something he'd tried hiding from us."

"What did he have to hide?" I ask. The initial shock of unearthing the truth is now being replaced with genuine curiosity.

"We don't know. We've always thought it was just the stress of his work finally taking a toll on him." Uncle Leo shakes his head and lets out a remorseful sigh. "Everything was all fine for the next five years until he comes up to both of us with shocking news. Apparently, some guys double-crossed him on his research and are out to take it back by force. And that means they're out to get you too."

"Your father wasn't one to give up without a fight. With nothing more than a few preparations and last minute goodbyes, he left and put you under Leonus's care," Aurania says. "He said he was going to lead them off our trail while trying to continue our work. Being the resourceful man he was, he succeeded….until now."

"But what was more puzzling were the last few words that he said to us on the night he left. He said to keep you safe at all costs because you were apparently, 'the last remnant of hope for both the Protheans and the galaxy today.' I'd thought your father had somehow lost it, but with the conviction in his voice, we believed him. He wouldn't lie about something this big. And to say that those were cryptic words would be an understatement; Aurania's been working all these years to decipher what he meant."

The last remnant of hope for the galaxy today? What does that even mean? I thought I could at least wrap my head around this whole Prothean genetic experiment thing but things are starting to sound even more outrageous by the second. "So I'm assuming you must have been monitoring me to help figure out Dad's message, haven't you?"

Aurania averts my gaze for a moment, but I see the guilt etched in her eyes. "Yes, I have. Leonus here has been sending me constant status updates on your physiological patterns. It's only within your subconscious where the Prothean experiences will come to manifest."

"You mean in my dreams and stuff?"

"Precisely. And I've been trying to glimpse any information I can from those dreams of yours to piece together your father's cryptic message. I haven't had much luck but I have some inkling as to what he meant." She reassembles the separate screens back into one and pulls up some brand new data to be displayed on the screen. "My findings so far points that it has something to do with the extinction of the entire Prothean race."

I bury my face in the palms of my hands and try to consider the implications of what she has said. I fail miserably. There's absolutely no way I can even begin to comprehend the gravity and scope of what Aurania's telling me. It's like I'm being dropped in a wide, endless ocean and told to find land. My mind's a complete mess and I don't even know where to start.

"Leonus tells me that you've been having a bout of nightmares in the past few weeks, haven't you?"

I open my mouth to say something in retort to Aurania but I stop myself. There's absolutely no way I can keep lying to myself. Uncle Leo has already tried telling me before but to no avail. But Aurania only reaffirms what I already know, even going so far as to show me the evidence of my origins. It's time to stop running away and start facing the truth. "Yes, I have…" I reluctantly answer.

"It's just as your father said would happen. The Prothean gene sequences are reaching their maturity and starting to resonate with your human physiology." She acknowledges this with several inputs of data into the datapad.

"So what else have you all been keeping away from me? Since we're all coming clean with the secrets so far, is there anything left that you're not telling me?" I ask tiredly, no longer able to muster up enough anger to channel towards Uncle Leo and Aurania. "For one, how about the people that are hunting us down?"

Both of them exchange a quick look with one another before Aurania speaks up. "Even I myself have no idea on why they want you or your father so bad. And believe me, they even came to the Citadel looking for me which is why I had to leave for Eden Prime. So I'm sorry that you had to make the trip to the Citadel all for nothing," she says apologetically. "The only plausible reason I can think of is that they want their investment in our research back. But it makes no sense as to why they'd resort to these extreme measures, even to the point of pursuing you after 13 years. Apart from being a valuable wealth of information to the study of Protheans, there's nothing more that they stand to gain." She furrows her brow in contemplation.

"Which makes me suspect that there's even more to your father's message that he lets on," Uncle Leo pipes in to the conversation. "So it's even more important now that we find out what it is."

I stare at both the turian and asari dejectedly, hoping that they would just tell me that the whole affair's nothing more than a simple misunderstanding. Turns out, it's never that easy, is it? All my life I just wanted to be normal. I never asked to be the last form of salvation to the galaxy or anything. And if that wasn't bad enough, I'm being hounded at every single corner of the galaxy by some guys that Dad got on the wrong side on. I groan in frustration, burying my face in my hands again. They come off slick and wet with tears.

"Nathaniel. I know this is a lot for you to take in, which was why your father never wanted you to know." Aurania shuts of the datapad and places it on the table. "I'm so sorry that you had to hear all of it, but given the circumstances, there just wasn't much of a choice."

Uncle Leo reaches over the table and gives my leg a firm squeeze. "Nate, like I said before, whatever happens, I'll be here for you. Always."

I wipe the tears clouding the edges of my vision away. I've made up my mind. Now that I've come this far, I'll be damned if I don't finish what we came here in the first place to do. We've been running for so long, not just from those pursuing us, but also from the truth – my truth. I can't even begin to imagine the strain it must have had on poor old Uncle Leo. How can he even stand to live a life like that, let alone having to look out for me at the same time? Well, it's about time I stopped running and face it head on. I'm not about to let others carry my burden any longer when it's also mine to bear. I take some time to recollect my thoughts and formulate the words that I'm about to say.

"Okay, just tell me what I need to do to help."

Uncle Leo and Aurania looks taken aback at my response as they sit there staring at me. Then, Aurania's surprised expression gives way to a smile. "You're the spitting image of your father; always putting others before himself."

The turian also has the corners of his mouth twisted into a toothy grin. "I told you so, Aurania. Now imagine the fact that I had to put up with him for the past 13 years."

"That must have been tragic indeed." She lets out a small laugh, providing me a brief but memorable glimpse into a whole other side of her personality.

"Well, you heard him. What _can_ he do to help with your work?" the turian teases.

"You couldn't have turned up at a better time. There's a dig site outside Constant that–" she begins.

"Mother!" A new voice interrupts us and causes all of us to look at the new arrival in the room.

A very familiar-looking asari stands in the hallway that connects the living room to the bedroom, clad in a fashionable black jacket and pants. She looks a lot younger than Aurania, exuding an aura of youthful energy. Something must be wrong, if her grave expression is anything to go by.

"What the – Ranae?" I look up from the couch. The tears must be obscuring my vision and playing tricks on me. No way that can be Ranae. I turn back to Aurania. The bright smile is now gone, replaced with a similar expression that mirrors the other asari's.

"Listen, we don't have much time. I fear that those people chasing you are already on to us," she says urgently. Turning to Uncle Leo, "Leonus, I need you to take Nathaniel and the quarian and meet me at the Systems Alliance dig site outside of the city. Stay low and keep him safe! You still have the Vanguard right?"

The turian nods. "The Alliance dig site? How do we get there?"

"Just take one of my skycars in the parking lots in the basement. Now, hurry!" she barely finishes her sentence before she's already leaping off the couch and towards the other asari. "What's the situation right now, Ranae?" Both of them walk further down into the hallway.

I swear I definitely heard the name Ranae. But before I can give it much thought, Uncle Leo's already urging Nazreil and I onto our feet. "We're leaving right now? But there's still so much I need to know," I protest as Uncle Leo drags me by the wrist towards the door.

"From the sound of it, that can't possibly be good. You heard what Aurania said, those guys from the Citadel are already here," Nazreil says from next to me as the three of us exit the apartment.

"And if you don't want them shooting at us again, we'd better hurry up and meet her by the dig site. You'll get all your questions answered there," Uncle Leo explains to me as we enter the elevator. He thumbs the button for the parking lot. Tense seconds tick by as we descend from the lofty height of the arcology.

A few minutes later, we arrive in the underground parking lot without incident. I still regret not being able to have all my questions answered but I make do with what Aurania's told me so far, which is plenty more than I could have ever hoped for. I just hope our luck lasts long enough so that we don't have to bump into those guys chasing me halfway across the galaxy. "Over here, parking lot A67!" I holler over to Nazreil and Uncle Leo.

We take one of the two sporty-looking skycars parked in the lot and just gun the engines, sending us hurtling out of the Everglades Tower. Uncle Leo programs the dig site as our destination on the onboard navigational software. With the destination locked in, we soar between the towering arcologies of Constant, the conglomeration of buildings becoming less and less dense as we head towards the city's outskirts.

"Damn it, how did they manage to track us down? I thought we lost them after Omega?" Uncle Leo curses under his breath.

"They must have had some sort of tracking device or something?" Nazreil mutters before the realization hits him. "Keelah, they must have installed a tracking beacon on board the Vanguard when they sabotaged the ship! Nazreil, you bosh'tet! Why didn't you pick it up?"

"Anyways, it doesn't matter now. I trust that Aurania's able to handle the situation. We just need to concentrate on getting there in one piece." As if to illustrate our predicament, he brings up the rear view on the dashboard display. It shows nothing but the cityscape of Constant against the purple dusk sky. There's no sign of any pursuit going on whatsoever. "Looks like Aurania's managed to buy us some time."

"Crap, just when I was getting the answers I needed. And here I was thinking that things couldn't get any worse." I peer out the skycar window and try to spot this Alliance dig site that Aurania mentioned from among the pastures of green in the distance. The display dashboard indicates that we're still several clicks south from the dig site, which means we'll probably need another ten minutes of flying to get to our destination. Just when I thought we'll be safe for the time being, something in the faraway clouds catches my attention.

"Uh…Nate, Mr. Leo, do you see what I see?" Nazreil pipes up from the back seat, proving that what I see isn't just a figment of my imagination.

"I see it too, just what is that?" Uncle Leo narrows his eyes as he peers out into the distance at the unusual sight.

There's an unusual swirling in the clouds, as if it's being parted by some gigantic object. The disturbance seems to be occurring right above the dig site that we're headed to. As we get closer and closer, the maelstrom in the clouds picks up in intensity. That can't be a natural phenomenon; that much I'm sure of. The grim omen causes my gut to clench up and my head to ache.

"Spirits….that can't be good." Uncle Leo stares wide-eyed at the brewing storm clouds.

A bolt of red lightning streaks across the clouds, followed by a few more. Then, the epicenter of the maelstrom turns a shade of sickly orange and like wildfire, the color ripples across the surrounding skies. A deep, rumbling roar emanates from somewhere within the maelstrom. Without warning, tiny, metallic-like cubes rain down from the skies, kicking up tiny plumes of dirt as they land in the nearby vicinity of the dig site. The cubes start unfolding into humanoid figures, sprouting arms and legs but with the distinction of what I can only describe as a glowing head?

"Keelah, are those geth? What the hell are they doing all the way out here?" Nazreil shatters my train of thought. The quarian sounds genuinely upset.

Another rumbling screech sends us our attention back to the center of the clouds' maelstrom. In a malevolent flash of lightning, something huge swoops down from the cover of the clouds. A huge, squid-like starship of some sort descends upon the green pastures of Eden Prime while nearby crops burn away in the searing heat of its engines. The thing's gigantic, even rivaling the lone arcology on the dig site in height. In an instant, I recognize the gargantuan contraption. It's one of those things from my dreams.

"Holy crap…"

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse.

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**Author's notes: Finally, things are starting to tie into Mass Effect 1 and I'll just say that this chapter was a challenging one to write. Regardless, thanks to all my readers who've read and reviewed for the last chapter. And thank you all for your patience.**

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. And I'll see you next week if all goes as plan and if I can find the time on my hands during my travels to work on the fic. Till then, see ya! **


	16. Geth on Green Pastures

**Author's notes: Once again, I miss my previous deadline but like I said before, updates are going to be a bit more sporadic now during the summer holidays. For that, I really apologize for those looking forward to the next chapter.**

**Anyways, it's been ages since I played Mass Effect 1, so my memory of the Eden Prime's layout in the game is a little bit spotty. Due to what little time I have for gaming, I don't think I'll be able to replay the game and refresh my memory. Therefore, I'm just going to take a little bit of creative liberty with the general lay of the land. Rest assure though, several key elements of the Eden Prime level will still be retained.**

**With that said, I hope you enjoy this more action-heavy chapter after several chapters' worth of exposition, plot development and character interaction. I'm trying out a new form of pacing here to balance two integral story arcs, so we'll see if it works to this chapter's benefit.**

**Mass Effect is copyright of Bioware, and I own nothing but my OCs. Enjoy, everyone!**

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MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 15 – Geth on Green Pastures 

Getting out of the car probably isn't the best of ideas right now. Then again, the thought of it didn't occur to us until _after _the shooting started. And even then, it's already too late to turn back to the open fields where we landed. We were already in the middle of the dig site. At least the pre-fabricated building complexes here offer us some form of cover. The three of us are huddled behind one of such buildings which encircle a clearing where some extensive digging work has been done. I risk a peek around the corner of the building and instantly duck back.

Holy shit, this is even worse than I thought.

"Nate, are you okay? You don't look so good," Uncle Leo asks, eyes wide with concern.

"I..I'm fine," I weakly reply and realize that my voice is quavering a bit. Even my palms are starting to get drenched in cold sweat. The pounding in my head isn't going away either, it's only getting worse.

Nazreil scoots past us and hugs the wall of the prefab building adjacent to ours. He inches his head out for a short peek and his whole body stiffens.

"No,no…no, this can't be happening," he cries out in disbelief. "They're not supposed to venture outside the Veil, they never do!" Something must have happened between those synthetic humanoids and the quarians if Nazreil's getting this upset over their presence here on Eden Prime. That only reaffirms what I already know – those _things_ are bad news.

Whatever those synthetic-looking humanoid creatures are, they're crawling all over the place. I can't tell if they're just some sophisticated VI's or sentient beings but they're mercilessly mowing down the confused colonists in cold, calculated fashion.

"Oh my god….they're just killing those poor people!" I cup my hand to my mouth, feeling sick to the stomach at the sight of so many people collapsing to the ground. The pounding headache and blurry vision isn't helping matters much.

"Stay low and stay quiet, we're gonna be next if we don't!" Uncle Leo hisses. His talon has a firm and reassuring grip on my shoulder.

The initial bout of shock among the colonists wears off as the reality of the situation sinks in, and pandemonium breaks loose. Everybody caught out in the open scrambles to get away from the geth. Some try to make it back into the buildings while others flee up the hillside. Gunfire mingles with the screams and the footfalls of a mad stampede to safety.

I force myself to take deep breaths in order to keep my cool and maintain a level head. Suddenly, a flash of a lone, pillar-like construct against a familiar red backdrop streaks across my vision. I blink once, and then twice, hoping it's just my eyes or the headache playing tricks on me.

"Nate! Come on, up here!"

Uncle Leo's voice snaps me out of my reverie and the turian's no longer at my side. I spot him at the adjacent pre-fab giving a boost to Nazreil who's already clambering up the window and into the building. The turian gives an urgent wave of his arm, beckoning me to come on over.

"We'll use the buildings as cover and make our way through them. It beats staying out in the open like sitting ducks," Uncle Leo grunts with effort as he hoists me upward.

I grab the ledge of the window and vault inside the building where several scared pairs of eyes meet mine. Everyone sheltered in the building turns their attention to the new arrivals, their gaze reflecting that of a cornered prey. I raise both my arms in a non-threatening manner. "It's okay, we're not with those things outside. We're not going to hurt anyone so please, just calm down," I softly say out loud.

"Uh….thanks, Nate. I don't do too well when talking to crowds," Nazreil whispers gratefully.

"Don't mention it. Now let's get Uncle Leo up here," I say as I reach an outstretched arm to the turian below to which he firmly grabs hold of. Nazreil does the same. "On the count of three. One, two, three!" I feel my muscles straining as I pull Uncle Leo up with both arms. They're much heavier than they look.

Uncle Leo gets a grip on the window ledge and hoists himself over. I can hear a whimper going around the huddled crowd at the sight of Uncle Leo. I sweep my eyes across the room we're in. Figures. Everyone's human so I guess I can't blame them for their apprehension to our motley group given what they've just seen and gone through outside.

"Where's Mrs. Aurania? She said she'd meet us here!" I turn to Uncle Leo just as he pulls out a pistol from the folds of his coat.

"I don't know but she'll be here soon, I hope," Uncle Leo whispers back to me as he moves at a low crouch towards the window on the opposite side that overlooks the clearing. The glass covering the window has a huge crack snaking all across the pane. The turian squints so as to make out what's happening outside. Piqued by curiosity, I sidle up to his side to take a peek outside too.

The geth are still methodically exterminating anyone unfortunate enough to still be stranded outside. However, the chorus of gunfire from more conventional firearms joins the fray. Soon enough, from up the hilltop emerges a squadron of Alliance marines with their assault rifles blazing away at the geth.

"Oh, thank God, the Alliance are here!" a person cries in relief from somewhere in the building.

I return my gaze to the window and see that the marines are easily dispatching the few remaining geths in the clearing. Once they're all in the clear, some of the colonists get up to go greet the squadron. I make a move to get out of the building as well but Uncle Leo shakes his head advising me against it. "Don't. I doubt if that's the last of them. We'll wait and see."

"But…"

Another salvo of gunfire cuts off what I want to say and I instinctively duck back behind the low wall. A whole new wave of geth rushes out into the clearing, catching the marines off-guard. Their shields hold out for only so long under the hail of gunfire before most of the squadron goes down. A few manage to retreat to the front steps of the prefabs closest to ours where they take cover.

"Any word on reinforcements?" One of them frantically yells to the other.

"Negative. All divisions are currently engaging the geth everywhere. But I heard the 212 unit managed to get a distress signal out!"

I turn to Uncle Leo, exasperation written all across my face. "Why aren't we out there helping them? They're getting butchered out there!"

"The moment we step outside there, we're going to get killed as well. You saw how they took down an entire squad of trained marines, we won't even stand a chance," the turian replies dryly.

"Mr. Leo's right, Nate. The geth become a lot more deadly, especially in large numbers," Nazreil says to me.

The familiar roar of a skycar's engine in the distance catches our attention. I look at Uncle Leo and he nods, meaning that it must be Aurania. We scour the grim orange skies for the car and sure enough, we spot it as a small fleck of silver hurtling right for the dig site. Yep, I definitely recognize the sporty design of that skycar. Something's wrong though. I see smoke billowing from the side engine compartment, and the car's struggling to stay airborne. The car descends at an alarming speed, still going way too fast for such low altitudes. The car shoots past us overhead and disappears over the hills before the sound of grating metal greets our ears. The three of us trade worried looks.

"Come on, let's get to her before those geth do!" Uncle Leo leaps onto his feet.

Most of the geth turn their attention towards the crash site while leaving four of their own to deal with the marine stragglers. Despite the geth's reduced numbers, the two surviving marines are still pinned down.

"This building stops at the foot of the hill, so there's no point in using it to get to Aurania." Uncle Leo motions for us to stay close as he advances to the doorway. "Looks like we're just going to have to take out the geth in the clearing and get the jump on the others headed towards the hill."

"But how? We don't even have weapons on us!" I ask, puzzled by Uncle Leo's suicidal idea.

The turian points at the assault rifles strewn by the prone bodies of the marines. "I don't think they'd need it anymore. So, once the geth are down, grab the guns and run like hell for the hill. Ready?"

Nazreil and I nod. With a motion that must have been ingrained with years worth of drill and practice, Uncle Leo fluidly pops out of cover and goes absolutely nuts on the trigger. The semi-automatic pistol fires rounds at a staggering rate, enough to whittle down the shields of one geth. Momentarily distracted, the geth abandon their barrage on the marines who seize the opportunity to fire back. Several rounds clip the geths' chassis, spewing forth white fluid before one go down. Three are still left standing before a blinking, disc-shaped object lands at their feet. An earth-rumbling explosion follows, ripping the remaining few into synthetic bits and pieces.

"Now, go!" Uncle Leo hits the panel of the door and he bounds across the threshold within moments. We follow suit.

I feel my legs kicking up blood-soaked dirt as I run across the clearing, slowing myself enough to scoop up one of the assault rifles from the marines. A feeling of guilt nags at me since I'm looting a dead corpse and all but the sensation's fleeting as I've got more pressing concerns to worry about. I stare down the length of the Alliance's ubiquitous M-8 Avenger rifle and take comfort in the fact that I've at least got something to protect myself. Due to its sheer bulk and weight, I heft it a little to cradle it more comfortably in my arms. Nazreil picks up one for himself too.

"You two, watch our backs and don't let anything make their way through! There are also survivors inside the buildings!" Uncle Leo yells to the two marines as he sprints for the foot of the hill.

I needn't turn around to know that the marines must be giving us the most confused of looks now. We trudge our way to the top of the hill when Uncle Leo grabs me by the scruff of my collar and pulls me behind the cover of some outlying rocks. The sight waiting at the bottom of the hill where Aurania crash landed is not a promising one.

A large platoon of all sorts of geth is closing in on the car that's crashed into the side of the colony's prefab units. There's smoke billowing from the automobile and a few serious dents in the front hood, but the car looks otherwise intact. Thank goodness Aurania paid premium for top-of-the-line skycars.

"Keelah…." Nazreil timidly peers out from over the rocks. His hands are visibly shaking. "There's just so many of them! What do we do? What are we going to do?" his voice quavers even as he struggles to hold his rifle steady.

"Nazreil," I whisper to him. He doesn't notice. "Nazreil!" I hiss. That gets his attention at last. Although he does look worse for wear. "Just stay calm, okay? I'm sure Uncle Leo's working on a plan for this, right?" I say as I search Uncle Leo's eyes for any hints that he's got something up his sleeves. The turian only his mouth slightly agape, still racking his brains to come up with something.

A bang against metal resonates from the car and we train our attention back on it. It seems to be coming from the passenger side door as it buckles ever so slightly like someone's trying to kick their way out. Then, the buckling stops altogether. We look on in grim anticipation, fearing the worst for Aurania. The geths already have their rifles primed to fire at a moment's notice and we're still stuck up here on the hilltop not doing anything.

The door explodes outwards at breakneck speed, effectively shearing the top half of three geths standing closest to the car. I see that the door's encased in a familiar blue haze before a burst of that very same blue energy erupts in the middle of all those geth. Some are thrown skywards while those further away from the epicenter of the blast stumble at the concussive force. This spectacle buys Ranae and Aurania enough time to exit the car and take cover behind a stray piece of debris from the prefab unit.

I don't have the time to process the unsettling sight of Ranae as Uncle Leo springs into action. "That's the plan, boys!" he hollers as he flings himself out of cover, firing bursts after deafening bursts from his rifle. "Take out those in the rear; we'll thin them out for Aurania!"

Fear keeps me rooted to my spot for a while before adrenaline takes over. I take a few deep gulps of air and maintain an iron grip on my rifle to psyche myself up. The thought of Aurania and the answers she promises is enough to override my anxiety and send me out of cover. I hoist the assault rifle to shoulder height, lean into the stock and peer down the scope. Uncle Leo's not gotten around to train me on the use of assault rifles yet but years of video games have given me a rough sense of intuition on how to handle one. But I bet firing one would be a different thing entirely. I keep in mind the basics that Uncle Leo has made a point to reiterate time and time again back on Omega – a good grip on the gun, arms positioned to ride out the recoil, and to brace myself. I pull the trigger.

A salvo of bullets bursts forth from the gun accompanied by the satisfying kick of the stock against my shoulder. I readjust my aim and squeeze the trigger once more. The first few rounds find their mark but the rest go wild thanks to my itchy trigger finger. I see a geth go down in a bursting fountain of white fluid before finally releasing the trigger. "Yeah! Take that!" I whoop before a talon pushes the top of my head down behind the rocks again. Just in the nick of time too, as bullets from our assailants ricochet off the rocks.

"Pop out, short burst, get back into cover! Fire back only when there's a lull in gunfire!" Uncle Leo instructs me. "Understand? Your shields won't hold out long against the onslaught!"

I nod my acknowledgement but then my eyes catch sight of Nazreil who's still hunched next to me as if he hasn't made the slightest bit of movement at all. While Uncle Leo's peering over the side of the rocks to appraise the situation, I hunker down right in front of Nazreil, putting both hands on his shoulders. "Hey Naz, you okay there?"

He's whimpering, the outline of his eyes stares straight ahead and he doesn't even notice me. I shake him a little harder, hoping to break him out of his stupor. "Come on Naz, don't freak out on me like this! We've got Uncle Leo, it's going to be okay!"

Nazreil finally snaps out of it as he gasps for air, finally remembering to breathe again. "I'm alright….keelah, I'm alright. Don't worry about me."

"No, you're not! Look, just hang back here and keep your head down. We've got this," I try to reassure the poor quarian, shouting to make myself heard over the din of Uncle Leo's gunfire.

His eyes meet mine in a moment of silence, and for a second I can see genuine terror reflected in them. He finally relents at last. "Okay….but be careful." Nazreil clutches his assault rifle and holds it at the ready against his chest just in case.

The firefight is still raging down below but it seems like we're gaining the upper hand. The geth are caught right in the middle of the crossfire between our side and Aurania's. We have the upper ground here and there's also no cover in their immediate vicinity so it's all boiling down to a matter of time before we take the last of them out. Ranae's biotic display seem to be doing short work of the geth, pulling a few off of their feet and launching several others into the air while Aurania's blasting away with her pistol. On our side, we're raining down a hail of bullets onto our enemies below although Uncle Leo's doing most of the job. I'm just keeping them suppressed as much as I can.

With the coup de grace delivered from another precision shot of Uncle Leo's, all of pause for a moment to make sure the coast's clear. Once it's deemed safe enough, we slide down the hill to regroup with both Aurania and Ranae. Nazreil needed a little encouragement though. Whatever his past experiences were with the geth, they definitely weren't pretty.

"You two okay?" Uncle Leo worriedly asks.

"Apart from a few scrapes and bruises, we're fine. Thanks for the save, Leonus," Aurania says as she inspects herself over for any outstanding injuries.

"Don't mention it. You weren't followed, were you?" Uncle Leo asks over his shoulder as he scans the vicinity with his rifle.

"It was a hassle but I think Ranae has managed to settle that problem," she replies a little out of breath. "Goddess, just what is going on here? First the geth appear and start massacring everyone for reasons I do not even know and we have their giant starship to worry about. Nothing good can come out of this." Aurania lets out a tired sigh and rubs her brow. "Nevertheless, we still need to get Nathaniel here to the Prothean beacon that the dig team recently unearthed. If my theories prove correct, he can at least understand to some degree the cache of information stored in it. Whatever he can make out could go a long way to helping me decipher Sunderland's message."

"You two stay close to us," Uncle Leo turns to address Ranae, "Ranae was it?" She nods. "I saw what you can do with your biotics, so I'll need you guarding our rear. Here," he hands over his pistol which Ranae graciously accepts, "just in case the biotics aren't enough."

Aurania takes the lead with Uncle Leo by her side while we're left trailing the two adults. Dirt and gravel scrapes beneath our feet as we slowly make our way past more pre-fab units to what looks to be a shipping platform further down the path.

"Where exactly is this beacon located right now?" I hear Uncle Leo ask in a low voice.

"My sources tell me that it's already been moved to the spaceport. I already have a plan worked out to bypass security to get to the beacon, but I guess that would no longer be necessary given the recent turn of events," Aurania says, gesturing all around us.

Ranae brings up the back of the group so there's no better opportunity like the present to get my questions out in the open.

"Ranae, that is you isn't it? How the heck are you….I mean, what are you doing…never mind that, just who are you really?" I stumble all over my words as the torrent of questions just spills out from my mind.

"Nate, I can call you that right?" she answers me without so much as making eye contact with me seeing as how she's occupied with sweeping the area for potential hostiles.

"Yeah sure but –"

She cuts me off, her tone all curt and professional-like even under the circumstances. It's a far cry from the innocent and gentle-natured persona of hers back in New Madison. "Can this wait for another time? We're kind of in the middle of a warzone right now."

"What in the spirits' name is that thing?" Uncle Leo's exclamation stops our thread of conversation and we can't help but notice the giant spikes that are gruesomely impaling the colonists in front of us.

I gag slightly at the sight and come close to throwing up. I can even start to taste the bile rising in my mouth. Nazreil looks on in apprehension while appalled curiosity crosses Ranae's features. Before I can even think to heave the contents of my stomach, the spikes come to life. The impaled bodies writhe uncontrollably as some sort of current burns through them, literally melting away skin to replace it with a layer of sickly grey flesh that has pulsating blue veins snaking all across. Then, if that wasn't bad enough, the unthinkable happens. The dead bodies open their eyes and squirm fitfully on the spikes.

"Keelah…."

It's all any one of us manages to get out before the spikes retract to ground level, sending those monstrosities charging at us.

* * *

Stupid asari bitch. Wilkins curses as he lands his own skycar on the outskirts of the dig site. He and his men were already getting ready to bug out and head for the dig site to head the target off…until that daughter of hers show up. Wherever she got her training from, she was _good_. Single-handedly took out two of his men with her biotics before blowing up the whole apartment unit he was in with high-grade ordnances. Could have almost gotten him too if he wasn't one step ahead and decided to leap out the window to rappel onto the unit below.

As if covered with agonizing cuts and bruises weren't enough, the universe thinks it funny to send down all this shitstorm of geth onto the dig site to complicate matters. Communications to his squad are down but he's managed to send out a message which he's not even sure they got. Which means that he has absolutely no clue as to when or where his squad's even gonna show up. So why the _hell _is he still trying to see this mission through all on his own? With this many geth crawling around, and without the prospect of backup, this mission's just as about doomed.

The rational part of his brain is screaming at him to stop and turn back right away but there's also another voice in his head, small and distant, urging him to go on as if it's the right thing to do. Somehow, Wilkins has a feeling that this doesn't just concern the capture of the kid anymore. A cryptic and ominous message from the kid's father, and the Shadow Broker wanting this kid so bad for 13 years, even if the kid's of use in nothing more than in the field of Prothean studies? In a manner that he can't even explain, the sight of the gigantic mothership in the distance suggests to him that the answers he seeks will lie at the end of this road he's now taking.

Following the path of that asari bitch into the dig site's a no go since they got clipped by a rocket fired from one of the geths down below when they were going in. Instead, he hung back far enough to be out of the geth's effective weapon range and encircled the compound in search for a landing spot in which there was minimal geth presence. He finds one on the outskirts of the storage complexes just northwest of the train station to the spaceport.

With the dig site turning into hell all around, Wilkins slips on some light chest armor for added protection. He figures some firepower couldn't hurt so he grabs an assault rifle in addition to a pistol he slips into his waist holster. He checks himself over to make sure he's ready to go. Once satisfied, he takes off at a sprint for the storage prefabs.

He makes it safely among the buildings before the sight of a four-strong geth platoon sends him sliding into cover behind several stacked crates. In the midst of the platoon is a lone turian who strides around with an air of authority. Wilkins wouldn't be surprised if he was the one calling all the shots around here. Then again, he most likely is once Wilkins gets a closer look at the turian's features.

The cybernetic left arm and accompanying implants pretty much says it all – it's Saren Arterius. He'd know the turian from anywhere. As one of the most elite of Spectres that the Council has to offer, Wilkins has had several run-ins with the turian over the course of his own legally-questionable career. However, seeing Saren here with all these geth…could he be the one responsible for all this destruction? Spectres are known to operate outside the law, some even going to extreme measures. But the brutality and casual wasting of human lives suggests otherwise to Wilkins.

He sits quietly in his hiding spot, waiting for Saren's geth platoon to pass. The moments tick by in nerve-racking silence and he can start to feel cold sweat dripping down his forehead. If he's discovered, there's a slim chance that he's going to survive a firefight with these kinds of odds stacked against him. Nobody in their right mind would go up against Saren Arterius, even if the turian doesn't have a geth escort surrounding him. The company's almost at the exit of the storage complex and Wilkins lets himself breathe a sigh of relief. What happens next makes his blood run cold.

"I can tell you're there, you know." The whole compound seems to echo with Saren's raspy, cold and calculating voice.

Wilkins' eyes widen in shock. He doesn't plan on this happening but he knows there's only one way out of this one. There are no second chances, so he better get this one right.

"Come on out so I can get a better look at you. There's no point in hiding," the turian says in a jeering manner.

In a flash, Wilkins pops out of cover, assault rifle blazing. The first volley cuts down two of Saren's geth companions before retreating back into cover again. Wilkins can't seem to decide which one's more disturbing: Saren's unfazed expression or the fact that the geth aren't returning fire. Whichever one it is, the idea's to take down the small fry so that he can concentrate solely on Saren. A few more bursts from his assault rifle whittle his adversaries down to only the turian.

Wilkins emerges into the open at last, keeping the assault rifle trained on Saren. He only has a pistol holstered at his waist but Wilkins is not going to take any chances with a Spectre. "Are you responsible for the attack on this dig site?" he asks.

"Should you really concern yourself with such petty questions?" Saren replies condescendingly.

"You shouldn't be as smug to a person who's got a gun pointed at you."

"So what if I claim responsibility for the attack? What is it to you? I doubt you'd understand the scope of what's involved here."

"All I care about is the fact that your little show here is making my work a little hard to do," Wilkins retorts.

"I can say the same of you training that gun on me," Saren coolly replies. The malicious gleam in his eyes and the manner of his response is really starting to unsettle Wilkins.

"Either you send your geth armada away or I'll be forced to shoot you on the spot. Now, I don't even give a damn about your Spectre status so don't bother pulling that bullshit on me," Wilkins gives his ultimatum, but even as he says it, he's unsure of just how convincing the words sounded leaving his own mouth. He doubts if somebody as experienced as Saren will back off. Spectres always come prepared.

"I'd like to see you try," Saren smirks.

"Your funeral." Left with no choice, Wilkins squeezes the trigger but the bullets find empty air where Saren once stood. "What the –"

The turian materializes to his side, catching Wilkins's right arm with superhuman speeds and dexterity. Before there's even any time to react, Saren wrenches the assault rifle free from his arm and the weapon clatters uselessly to the ground. Wilkins goes on the offensive, trying to knee Saren in the gut and following it up with a left hook, but the turian is quick to sidestep the blows. He leaps back a few paces to distance himself from the turian and pulls out his sidearm. Wilkins gets off no more than a few wild shots before the turian is upon him again, methodically striking his arm to disarm the weapon out of his grip.

"Guess we're doing this the hard way then?" Wilkins taunts.

Hand-to-hand combat has always been his forte and given a slew of cybernetic upgrades over the years to augment his strength and speed, Wilkins knows that he's more than evenly matched up against the seasoned Spectre. But given the alarming rate in which Saren overrpowered him, things aren't likely to turn out in his favor. He's never even seen anyone move like that before – it's like there's an almost inhuman-like quality to the turian's motions.

Biting back the rising fear, Wilkins strikes out by throwing a flurry of kicks, punches and hooks. The turian dodges and blocks all of the blows with ease before lashing out with an uppercut of his own. Wilkins sees it coming from a mile away but is unable to move his body to react in time. The blow violently catches him in his gut, knocking all the wind and fight out of him. That was no ordinary blow – its sheer force and tenacity is enough to make him collapse to his knees. It doesn't feel like a cybernetic augmentation either. So then, what is it?

"And to think you'd put up more of a fight. In the end, you're just another pitiful excuse for an obstacle in my path." Saren kneels down and clasps Wilkins's face in his talons.

Wilkins struggles to break free of the turian's grasp only to catch a wicked hook to the face. The ground swims in his vision before a kick into his gut sends him rolling over in pain. A few ribs must have been broken, and it's likely that there's some internal bleeding too, Wilkins gauges as he coughs up a mouthful of spit and blood. There's little respite for him to catch his breath before the turian has already locked his talons around his throat. With hardly any effort, Saren lifts Wilkins up as he desperately tries to claw his way free.

"I must say though, your determination is admirable. But you've cost me enough time as it is and I'm done playing games with you," Saren growls, his unnaturally blue eyes boring into Wilkins's.

"So you're just planning to kill me and everyone else here then? What the hell do you think it'll accomplish?" Wilkins manages to croak out, despite the constricting grip on his windpipe.

"Would it matter if I told you?" the turian chuckles darkly. "I highly doubt if you'd believe me. Even if I were to say that my deeds were to ensure the future of all galactic civilization? That I'm the last hope for this galaxy?" Wilkins searches those glowing blue eyes for any sign of a sick joke that the turian's playing on him. The eyes hold only resolve and unerring conviction. Saren pulls him in close. "We're dealing with forces beyond our mortal comprehension, so this isn't all some wanton killing of innocent lives. It's the price we all have to pay for the greater good of all sentient life."

Something about Saren's proclamation echoes a similar exchange between that asari and the kid back in the Everglades Tower. Again, rational thought takes a back seat during this instance. Before realizing it, he just blurts what's on his mind. "And I don't suppose it has something to do with a Prothean artifact now, does it?"

The turian's eyes widen slightly in surprise for a fraction of a second. "So what if it does?" he asks indifferently but Wilkins knows that the Spectre's curiosity has been piqued.

"Then let's just say we're both not so different, you and I," Wilkins chokes out. What the hell is he doing? Why is he telling Saren all this? He's gotten into tight situations before but not once did he have to play on the enemy's sympathy in exchange for his life. He always had a way out without relying on the degradation of his self-esteem. There's definitely something more going on here than just the animal instinct for self-preservation, but Wilkins's coming up empty. His brain's a befuddled mess right now and the lack of oxygen reaching isn't helping matters at all.

Saren loosens his vice-like grip around Wilkins's neck, but only slightly. "Maybe you could be of use after all, even if your contribution will be insignificant at best. But still, I can't afford anyone leaving this place alive and making a spectacle out of it. I wouldn't want the Council prying into my business," the turian says, right as he flings Wilkins to the ground.

He lands a couple feet away, groaning in pain. He hears the footfalls of the turian approaching and has just enough strength left to turn around to face Saren. The barrel of a pistol fills Wilkins's line of sight. He gulps, for the first time finding himself without a contingency plan. However, a distant voice in his head reassures him that he doesn't need one which doesn't make any sense at all. Because of that, he's going to have to pay the consequences.

Sarens's talon closes in on the trigger, just moments away from ending his life. Wilkins keeps his eyes trained on the barrel, fully resolved to stay defiant until death. The bullet never comes. The turian just stands there, towering over him with the pistol. Anguish and conflict are etched all over his features, before the mask of emotions turns into one of compliance.

Just what the hell is Saren playing at? But Wilkins doesn't have long to dwell on the matter.

"Looks like you could prove necessary to my plans after all," Saren cryptically remarks as he pistol whips Wilkins across the head.

Stars burst into his vision before the whole world tilts sideways. The ground rushes up to meet him and the last thing he sees is the silhouette of Saren walking away. Then, consciousness slips out from Wilkins's grasp.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Whew. That was a doozy to write, trying to balance what I think is two integral story arcs. And trying to keep Saren in character also proved a lot more challenging than I thought, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing his parts. Also, sorry for the typo and grammatical errors if there are any. I didn't really have the chance to check this fic for it. **

**Once again, I apologize for the wait, and I hope you all enjoy this next installment of Mass Effect Remnants. The next chapter should conclude the Eden Prime arc of the fic so stay tuned for it. Thanks for reading and for reviewing, guys! **

**With that said, I'll see you guys next week. If not, then probably in a fortnight depending on how fast I can write the next chapter. See ya! **


	17. Fated Encounters

**Author's notes: So this fic has been the product of multiple downtimes during my hectic schedule of summer road trips all across the States. What better way to kill time than to immerse myself into the world of Mass Effect, right? Anyways, since I'm working on this chapter for short hourly or half-hourly bursts at a time, the overall quality of the fic might seem a little….disjointed at times.**

**Well, I wouldn't want to bore you with my humdrum life and details. Where the fic is concerned, the previous chapter firmly establishes that things are finally starting to tie into the events of the first game. I'm looking forward to writing the next few chapters, given that I have the added challenge of confining things to canon, while spinning a stand-alone tale that occurs concurrently throughout Mass Effect 1. **

**Mass Effect is copyright of Bioware, and I own nothing but my OCs. Enjoy!**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 16 – Fated Encounters 

The deafening bursts of assault rifle fire fill the air, peppered with the ghastly death throes of the once-human monstrosities that are swarming all over us. They seem to be materializing from everywhere – some are jumping off cliffs that run parallel to the path while others emerge from in between prefab units. I've lost count of how many we've taken down, but it looks like their ranks aren't thinning out anytime soon. There's a pile of bloody corpses that we've left in our wake as we gun our way through to the train platform. It can't be more than a hundred yards away, but in our current predicament, the platform doesn't look anywhere near enough.

"Keep firing! Hold them back!" Uncle Leo yells to make himself heard. He's furthest in front of us as our group backs up towards the platform. He fires back and forth in an arc, mowing down anything that gets too close to our party. The deadly precision with which he handles the rifle is incredible; each burst that he fires is short, calculated and lethally accurate. It's hard to believe that I'm still looking at the same person who is the kind, gentle and awkward Uncle Leo that I've come to know over the years.

Ranae is also by Uncle Leo's side, covering the old turian's back. Whatever that the turian fails to put down with bullets, Ranae is quick to mop up with a combination of her biotics and pistol. This leaves Aurania, Nazreil and I to take up the rearguard. Given my unfamiliarity with the rifle, I settle for clearing a straight path behind us to the docking station. Uncle Leo and Ranae's handling the front lines well enough and I wouldn't want to add friendly fire to the mix – they've got enough on their minds to worry about.

"Damn it!" Uncle Leo curses. I turn around to see that his rifle's overheated, judging from the steam hissing from the front barrel. One of those things almost manages to get a swipe at Uncle Leo but he sidesteps its advance and smashes its face in with the butt of the rifle. "And stay down!" the turian exclaims as he stomps on the downed creature's face with a sickening crunch.

Another wave of pain sweeps throbs through my head, alongside a flashing image of a lone, cylindrical construct – only this time, the image is much more intense and vivid in nature. If I had to hazard a guess, it must be the Prothean beacon Aurania's talking about. The architecture of the construct, the aura it exudes, and the cache of information it promises; I _know_ it's the beacon. It's almost as if it's calling to me for some reason.

The vision causes me to let my guard down. A shriek from over my shoulder gets my attention and before I know it, one of those creatures latches its arms onto me. "Shit!" I'm thrown off balance as it tries to claw my face out. Adrenaline kicks in at this point and I instinctively use my free left hand to throw a punch at it. The blow catches its jaw and it relinquishes its grip. I follow it up with a kick to its gut, sending it stumbling back before the thing gets riddled from head-to-toe with bullets.

Nazreil stands at my side, with a smoking rifle in his hands. I can tell that he's shaking from fear – hell, we all are – but at least he's keeping it together enough to be functional. "Thanks for the save, Naz," I say shakily. He only nods.

"Come on you two, we're almost at the train platform that'll take us to the starport," Aurania urges us onwards. As Nazreil trots a few steps in front of us, she leans in close to me and whispers, "It's the visions weren't they?" So the episode I had just now didn't escape her notice.

"Yeah. They're getting more vivid each time, and my head feels like it's going to split open," I weakly reply, suddenly finding it so hard to focus on the task at hand.

"The visions must be the beacon resonating with your Prothean imprinting. In any case, I think it's best that you stay further back," she tells me. I can see concern etched all across her features.

"No, I'm still good to go. We can't afford to lose another gunman now," I protest. To make my point, I hip-fire the assault rifle at another one of those monsters lunging towards us. At such a short range, it's almost impossible to miss.

"Okay, but on one condition. I watch over you in case the visions prove too much for you to handle," she says. Her tone suggests that it's not an offer.

Thankfully, by the time we make it up to the train platform, they finally seem to stop coming at us. Ranae finishes the last one off by biotically lifting it skywards before it comes plummeting down to its death. Uncle Leo remains wary however, scanning the vicinity in case any more of them decide to show up.

The train station is little more than a flat expanse of an elevated platform with stacks of crates arranged neatly all around. Two train tracks that stretch off into the distance occupy the center of the platform. On each track sits a cart that's stacked with crates and other miscellaneous containers. Our group approaches the nearest one and pause to catch our breath while Ranae fiddles with its controls.

"Nazreil, Nate. You two okay?" Having deemed the area clear of hostiles for the moment, Uncle Leo approaches the two of us. The pounding in my head is swelling in intensity with each passing second and I hold on tightly to the rails in order to stay upright on my feet. Nazreil doesn't look to be in any better shape as he leans against the support rails, his breaths shallow and rapid.

"Let's just get to the beacon and get this over with," I groan.

Uncle Leo exchanges a worried look with Aurania. "This is bad. We can't keep the geth back forever. How much further are we from the beacon?"

"It should be at the starport at the other end of the train station," Aurania replies in a low voice, glancing over at me to gauge my condition.

Uncle Leo pauses for a moment as he looks into the distance where the tracks lead off to. "Well, we'd better hope there aren't any geth waiting for us on the other side."

"Got it! Everyone, get on board," Ranae exclaims, motioning for us to step onto the train cart.

Nazreil lends me his shoulder to lean on; an offer which I graciously accept. Once Uncle Leo gets aboard, Ranae keys in a few commands that gets the train moving. The five of us hunch low behind the crates, with Ranae taking the occasional peek to see if the coast's clear. I slump back against one of the crates, eyes closed as I nurse my forehead in a vain attempt to quell the pain. No such luck. With each passing throb of pain, I see the same visions flickering in and out of existence; they occur with such frequency that it's difficult to tell the difference between reality and the visions anymore.

"Just hang on a little more, Nate. We're almost there," Uncle Leo says. His tone of voice suggests that he's just as distressed as I am at seeing me go through all of this, knowing that there's little that he can do for me.

Tense minutes pass by in relative silence, interspersed only by the rapid breathing of everyone on the train and the soft thrum of the train's engines. Our luck holds out as the train ride to the spaceport proves to be uneventful. There's no sight of geths or those human monstrosities anywhere. Another platform comes into view where the train pulls into. The cart noticeably slows down and comes to a complete stop, sending me lurching forward slightly.

Ranae's the first to hop out of the cart to take stock of our surroundings. "Come on, let's get going while we're in the clear. The geth can't be far behind."

Nazreil scoops my arm and lifts me up with surprising strength. It's a struggle to find my own two feet to stand on as the headache clouds my perception of the world in front of me. I lean against him for support as the two of us limp along, with Uncle Leo and Aurania covering our backs.

The starport's eerily deserted and it doesn't look like it's seen any form of destruction like back in the dig site. Apart from the ravaged arcology in the distance and the pervading orange sky, there's no sign at all of any geth having been here. There isn't any telltale sign of a firefight and the place looks secure enough, so why isn't there anyone evacuating here? Uncle Leo's comment gives me the answer I'm looking for.

"Spirits….looks like the geth were thorough with all the personnel back on the dig site. They didn't even stand a chance to escape," the turian grimly notes.

I swallow a lump in my throat, not daring to put any further thought into what those words meant. Aurania matches Ranae's stride as the two of them scan the place for any signs of the beacon. My condition's worsening now – my head feels like it's about to split open, my hands are shaking so bad that the rifle is useless in my hands, and the visions sear into the back of my eyelids whenever I close my eyes. I take it that it must be a sign that the beacon's close by.

"I think they might have already prepped it for loading onto the shuttles on the other side of the starport," Aurania calls out to us as we make our way to another bridge further down from the trains. We cross over to the other side of the spaceport obscured from our view where we first arrived.

"Ranae, take point! Aurania, you stay back behind Ranae while I bring up our rear," Uncle Leo orders us with a tone of authority honed from his years in the turian military. "Nazreil, you stick close to Nate and whatever happens, keep him out of the line of fire. He's in no condition to fight in the state he's in right now."

Each passing second means that the geth are closing in on our position. With the train lines being our one and only way out of here, we'd be stuck in a tight spot if they manage to pin us down here. Our predicament must clearly be on everyone's minds as we rush towards the loading platform of the spacestation with renewed urgency.

We round the corner when Aurania exclaims, "Over there!" She points towards a lone and very alien-looking construct that sits at the end of the loading bay. "That's it!"

Instantly, something clicks in my consciousness like a feeling of déjà vu. I know this device – I've seen it somewhere during a time cycle not of our own. The device's appearance, function and design form vivid recollections in my memory while everything in its periphery is hazy and blotted out. But I know for sure that it's Prothean made – which should help shed some light on the cryptic message that Dad left behind before he disappeared.

Unable to contain her excitement, Aurania breaks formation and rushes up to it, careful enough to keep her distance. The beacon looks dormant, its sleek surface dull and unassuming. There's nothing about it that seems to suggest that the thing's powered on. Nevertheless, I can sense a treasure trove worth of information stored inside the thing, just waiting to be accessed by an organic being. It's calling out to me, manifesting itself as a bodily urge to approach the beacon and power it on. My last conscious thought is that of Nazreil helping me limp my way down the final flights of stairs before I realize that I'm standing in front of the beacon.

"Nathaniel, are you sure you know what you're doing?" I make out Aurania's voice somewhere off to my side.

"I….I guess so," I absent-mindedly reply as I stare straight ahead, still enthralled by the allure of the beacon. The world takes on a tunnel-like vision as I'm only able to concentrate on the beacon while everything else becomes muted in physical appearance and details.

"Be careful now, I'm unsure of just how seamlessly your Prothean physiology can interface with the beacon," she cautions.

"Whatever that you need to do Nate, you'd best hurry up. Who knows just when the geth might show up," Uncle Leo pipes up.

The turian's words barely register as I subconsciously pull up some form of holographic control panel in front of the beacon. The keypads consist of foreign-looking characters but intermittent visions of the beacon being operated by some sentient being gives me enough of an intuition to power the thing on. I key in several inputs as if some invisible hand guides me to press the corresponding buttons. With a final flick of a button, the beacon comes to life.

Glowing lights race up the beacon's side and a visible green aura starts to emanate from the device. A sense of majestic wonder seems to resonate from the beacon itself. "By the goddess, you've done it," Aurania says in awe. I can feel several sets of eyes boring into the back of my head as they too, take in the sight before them.

"So, what's next?" I hear Nazreil ask in curiosity. But his words come to me as if it's been travelling through a wall of thick glass – it sounds muted and distant.

Another brief vision instructs me on my next course of action, which I perform with little reluctance in my dream-like state. I take a step forward, and then another towards the beacon. I take in a deep breath and cross the invisible threshold into the beacon's sphere of influence. A force of some sort seizes every fiber of my being and my feet lose purchase of the ground as I feel myself levitating upwards. I feel a sensation of a psychological link being established, joining my consciousness into that of a collective's. The waking world fades away from all round me as my mind becomes conjoined with that of the beacon.

Then, the images start to flow – only that they are no mere images. Each image that flashes into my mind's eye is accompanied by an appropriate physiological sensation. Fear, despair, anger, hope – the images reveal to me a flurry of both emotions and information as the beacon relays to me the Protheans' struggle against some sort of galactic cataclysm during their life cycle. The event in question mirrors the nightmares I've been having, but it provides me with little context as to what's going on. I make out a relentless assault of those gargantuan squid-like starships on a Prothean planet; I see people fleeing only to be turned to dust by bursts of energy from the starships; and a desperate counterattack mounted by survivors against their assailants. Death and destruction surrounds every single image which shakes me to my core. Even if they aren't my people, I can't help but feel torn up on the inside at this wanton annihilation of all sentient life. From the looks of it, I can already hint at the outcome of this galactic genocide. As the vision wears on, the images become more erratic and jarring, no longer forming a coherent narrative. But I at least manage to catch an ominous word of warning – the Reapers are coming.

The visions abruptly end and I'm returned to the real world once more. Gravity takes effect and I collapse to a heap on the ground. Worldly sensations remind me that I'm mentally exhausted and visibly shaken by what I've seen. Cold sweat streaks down my forehead and my limbs are shaking all over. A motherly arm drapes over my shoulder to pull me into a sitting position and I see Aurania's concerned eyes staring into mine. "Goddess, are you okay?" She inspects me once over, making sure that I've not sustained any injuries. Satisfied that I'm unscathed, she continues, "What did you see, Nathaniel? Is there anything that we can use to figure out your father's words?"

"Mother, now's not the time. We need to get out of here before more geth shows up," Ranae interrupts.

Aurania hesitates for a moment before Uncle Leo steps into my view. "She's right, you know. We'll have all the time we need to figure this out once we get to safety," the turian echoes Ranae's suggestion.

"….Okay. Somebody will need to help me with Nathaniel though." She grunts with a little effort as she tries to lift me onto a standing position.

Nazreil rushes over to assist Aurania. "I got him, Mrs. Aurania." The quarian drapes my left arm over his shoulders as I transfer all my weight onto him to stay upright. My legs feel like they don't belong to me anymore; none of them seem to respond to my command. On the bright side, the pounding headaches and visions are now gone.

"Come on, let's head back to the train." With that, Ranae takes point and we return from where we first came. I catch one final glimpse of the still-operational beacon before it disappears my sight as we ascend the stairs onto the train platform. Somehow, in my befuddled state of mind, I can't help but feel as though we should have done something about the beacon, rather than just leaving it there out in the open.

I can't believe our luck. There's still no sign of geth anywhere on the spaceport and it doesn't look as though anyone has passed through the spaceport while we're here. We make it back onto the train and Ranae programs it to take us back into the dig site. The train departs the platform and before long, we are hurtling along the tracks.

"Damn it, I see another train coming from the dig site," Uncle Leo remarks as he squints into the distance. "You see it too, Ranae?"

"I do. But it's too far away for me to tell if it's geth forces or fleeing survivors. In any case, we shouldn't let our guards down."

Ranae and Uncle Leo crouch low behind several crates, weapons at the ready. Nazreil sets me down against one of the crates as he also draws his rifle. "Keelah, I've got a bad feeling about this, you guys," he mutters.

No sooner than he says it, does our luck eventually run out. I can feel our train cart losing its velocity before it finally comes to a complete stop. I crane my head to peek out of cover and see the other train fast approaching us. Only that there aren't any survivors on board – a whole platoon of geth led by a lone turian are on it.

"What the…..Saren Arterius?" Uncle Leo trails off, no doubt taken aback by the sight of the turian aboard too. A hail of incoming bullets is enough to bring his attention back to the present. "Geth!" He trades off a few bursts before retreating back into cover. The other train cart stops in front of ours and mercilessly pepper our cart with a storm of bullets. From what I can hear, the geth outnumber us greatly which would explain why nobody on our side is even able to pop out to return fire. There's hardly any lull in gunfire from our assailants, and even if there is, it's short-lived and nowhere near long enough to safely get out of cover without being mowed down.

"Nazreil, just what the hell is wrong with our train? Why's it stopping?" Uncle Leo yells, pressing himself deeper into cover behind a rapidly-decimated stack of crates.

"I don't know! Something or someone must be jamming it from the other end!" Nazreil frantically replies.

"Well, can you get it working again!?" the turian flinches at a bullet that ricochets far too close for comfort.

"I'll try!"

"If we don't get out of here fast, we'll be shredded to bits in no time! There's no way we can take all of them down!" Ranae exclaims as she blindfires her pistol over the top of the barrels that she's using as cover.

"I'm trying, I'm trying! Keelah…" Nazreil gets down on all fours, searching the cart for a control panel which he soon locates. He pops the panel open and boots up his omni-tool, immediately getting to work on bypassing the lockdown process.

On the other hand, I'm trying my best to avoid catching a bullet as I weakly crawl towards whatever sturdy piece of cover that's separating us from the geth and instant death. I make do with a shipping container that Aurania's also huddled behind and hold on to my rifle for dear life. Mentally exhausted from the beacon, it takes me all my strength to lift my rifle over the barrels and squeeze the trigger. My limp arms shout in protest against the recoil of the awkwardly aimed rifle. I can't tell if any of the shots find their mark or not but it doesn't really matter at this point.

"Nazreil, how much longer do we have to wait?!" The calm and collected tone of Uncle Leo's voice is starting to waver which goes to show just how grim our predicament is.

"I don't know! A minute, maybe more? I'm doing all I can right now!" Nazreil yells in reply, close to the verge of full-blown panic. His left hand fumbles clumsily on his omni-tool, lacking the precision and finesse that he usually displays when working his tech magic.

"I don't mean to rush you, Nazreil but we really need to get this train moving right now!" Uncle Leo seizes a brief lull in fire to peek out from around the corner of his crate and gets a bead on our assailant. A short burst from his assault rifle takes down a single geth standing closest to the unknown turian on the other cart which barely even fazes him.

My limbs are too tired at this point to even return fire. Another brief glance over the container allows me to count 10 geths on the other cart alongside the turian. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the turian's been fitted with various cybernetic implants on his silver armor unlike anything I've ever seen before. The most disconcerting thing about the turian however, are those unnatural, glowing blue eyes. He meets my gaze for a moment and I feel as though he's staring into my very soul. More than that, I sense a far sinister presence that fuels him in the depths of his eyes.

That's all the view I can afford before I'm forced back into cover when Aurania pulls me by the scruff of my neck. "Do you really wish to get yourself killed, Nathaniel?" she reprimands me. "Just keep your head down. First it was your father, and I don't think I can stand to lose you too."

The situation's getting worse by the minute. The geth have an almost laughable advantage on us, chipping away what little remaining cover we have left while we remain on the defensive. Right now, we're only able to buy time to delay the inevitable. If only I knew how to tap into the biotics I displayed back on Omega; then we'd probably still stand a chance of getting out of this alive.

"Come on, come on! Work, you piece of bosh'tet! Work, damn it!" Nazreil exclaims in a mix of frustration and panic at his omni-tool. I don't blame the guy for freaking out when he's trying to do his thing while bullets are whizzing by all over the place.

"Gah!" Uncle Leo gasps in pain as he catches a round to his torso, sending him toppling onto the floor. My eyes widen in shock, and I start to fear the worst.

"Uncle Leo!" I call out. He's quick enough to roll onto his back and push himself back behind another set of crates. "I'm alright. The round just grazed the armor. No harm done," he reassures me, wincing in pain.

"Thank the goddess," Aurania breathes out a sigh of relief, as do I.

"Finally!" Nazreil yells out as the bypass process completes its run. Sure enough, our train cart disengages its brakes and starts picking up speed again. We put some distance between the other cart and ours before we're able to lay down some suppressing fire just in case they decide to come back for us. Thankfully, they give up any attempt to pursue us, apparently having more pressing issues to attend to. It doesn't take me long to spot it: the cart departs towards the spaceport with canisters of high grade explosives in tow.

I'm about to raise this concern until Ranae speaks up. "Don't get your hopes up, everyone. We're not out of this yet. There could still be more waiting for us once we get off at the dig site." Ranae breaths heavily with the exertion and our close shave with death.

The cart pulls into the dig site's platform which is noticeably absent of hostiles. Geths are strewn all over the place and the scene's been witness to a very recent and intense firefight. I even pick out a lone, fully-armored turian corpse among the casualties. Then, we spot the ones responsible for securing the train station.

A group of three human marines, two male and one female stand waiting for us as the train pulls up. When we get closer though, I notice that the two males don't look like they belong to the colony's marine corp. Unlike the female marine who's wearing standard issue armor, the two males seem to be clad in armor of higher grade, suggesting that they come from a more elite task force. One of them stands out in particular, the male standing in the front who looks to be the leader of the platoon. He's clad in a black armor with a red and white stripe running down the length of his right arm plating, complete with a N7 logo emblazoned on the right chest. Unlike the menacing turian that I saw earlier, I can already tell that this man is an antithesis to that malevolent figure.

They're already lowering their weapons when we get off the train, deeming that we're not geth. The man with the distinctive suit of armor steps forward. "Are you all survivors?"

I nod. "Yeah, I guess you can say that," I hoarsely respond to his query.

"It's a funny bunch of survivors if you ask me, Commander. I've never seen such a motley crew around the dig site before," the female marine speaks up. "In fact, I don't think we even had a quarian assisting with the dig." I can hear a shuffling of feet from Nazreil.

"It doesn't matter who these people are, Williams. They're obviously not geth, and that's good enough for me," the commander replies, speaking to her in a slightly reprimanding tone. He trains his attention back on us, "I'm Commander Shepard and we're here to handle the situation."

"It's a good thing you came when you did, Commander. We just had a close brush with the geth on the way back from the starport. Thanks for securing the docking platform for us," Uncle Leo says to him.

"Don't mention it. You said you were on your way back from the starport when you got attacked by the geth, was there a turian with them?"

"Yeah, there was. Looked like he was leading the entire geth attack on this place too," Uncle Leo answers.

"Damn it, looks like Saren's behind all of this after all."

"Commander, they've got wounded!" the other male marine cries out.

"What?" I ask in disbelief. That can't be right. Everyone in our group turns to each other. Ranae, Nazreil, Uncle Leo, they're all unharmed except for….oh god no, Aurania.

"Spirits! Aurania!" Uncle Leo rushes over to the asari slumped against the container she took cover behind. Her right arm is already nursing a rapidly growing stain of blood on her chest.

"Alenko, get over here now! We've got medi-gel to help stop the bleeding!" Commander Shepard kneels before Aurania to check the severity of her wounds.

"Commander, with all due respect, we have a mission to focus on," Alenko hesitantly expresses his doubts.

"Helping wounded survivors also counts as part of the mission, Alenko. Which is why I'm leaving you here to care for the wounded while Chief Williams and I try to head Saren off," the Commander orders in a firm and resolute tone.

"That won't be necessary, Commander. We've got medi-gel of our own and the necessary first aid experience. Besides, there's going to be heavy geth resistance at the starport – you'll need all of your men with you," Uncle Leo says, still not taking his eyes off Aurania.

Ranae's already popping out a vial of what looks to be medi-gel and smearing it all over Aurania's wounds. Her formerly calm and expresionless façade seems to be cracking away at last as she furiously works on applying first aid to the wound. The commander's gaze focuses inwards, weighing his options before barking out the relevant orders. "Alenko, Williams, on me! Let's head towards the starport and stop Saren before he decides to try anything else." He turns back to address our party, "We've secured this place, so you all should be safe here for the time being. Just sit tight and wait, Alliance reinforcements should be on their way." He shoots a look of genuine concern at Aurania, "Let's hope your friend manages to hold out until they get here."

Before he turns to leave, I catch his attention. "Commander Shepard, I think you should know that Saren's also carrying plenty of high grade explosives with him. There's no way he can be planning to do anything good with them."

The commander acknowledges this and smiles in appreciation. "Thanks for the warning, kid." Directing his attention back to his squadron, "Let's move out, Saren's got enough of a head-start as it is!"

"G-good luck, Commander!" Nazreil manages to stammer out.

He nods and boards the train departing for the starport, weapons at the ready. As his squadron fades off into the distance, I'm drawn back to a more urgent matter: Aurania. Her condition doesn't look to be improving at all, even after the application of medi-gel. Her breathing's becoming more ragged and she's occasionally spitting up blood. Her teal complexion is rapidly paling in coloration and I can tell that she's fighting to even keep her eyes open.

"It's no use, the medi-gel's sealed the wound but there still seems to be some sort of internal bleeding!" Ranae cries out, her eyes welling up with tears. "I think the bullet must have punctured her lungs!" As if to illustrate her point, Aurania lets out a very blood-gurgled cough before streams of the warm, purple liquid flow forth from her mouth.

The reality of the situation sinks in and Uncle Leo's grim expression says it all. "Come on, stay with me, Aurania!" the turian says through gritted teeth, cradling her head in his arms. "You're stronger than this, so don't die on me now!"

"Mother, no! Just hang in there a little longer, mother! You heard the commander, help's on its way here soon!" Ranae buries her head into Aurania's chest, her hands holding on to her mother's for dear life. "I….I just can't do this alone, mother. I'm not ready for this," I hear Ranae mumbling out in between sobs.

Nazreil and I just stand there frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do. The quarian has a hand over his mouth, clearly shaken by this recent turn of events. On the other hand, I'm just at a loss of words, my brain still trying to make sense of the sight I see before me. It's as if everything's suspended in time, everything's taken on a hazy and fluid-like quality. It's just a dream, I tell myself. This can't be real. I'll be awake in my bed back home in New Madison any time now.

"Nathaniel," Aurania's gentle but dying voice pierces through the shroud of disbelief that surrounds me. "Nathaniel, if you would please….come on over." I try to steady myself, taking one slow step at a time until I'm able to kneel down beside her. "Listen closely now. I'm not long for this world, but there's still so much I need to tell you," her voice is but nothing more than a low whisper.

"Yeah, I'm listening," I reply.

"It's up to you now to see this through the end. I've pointed you in the right direction, and both Leonus and Ranae will be with you to lend their help wherever necessary," she's interrupted by a grievous coughing fit but she continues on nevertheless, "You're all that's left of your father's legacy. Carry on where I've last left off and figure out whatever it is that your father intends of you to do. I know that you'll make us proud." Despite the pain that she's going through, she manages a smile. She lets out a little chuckle, earning another groan of pain to which she doesn't seem to mind. "My only regret is that I couldn't have spent more time with you, Nathaniel. But alas, I'll cherish the fact that the goddess has allowed me to see you one last time before I leave."

"Aurania, don't say these things. You're gonna pull through, just like we always had in the old days," Uncle Leo says as he tries to choke back the tears.

Her head limply turns to face Uncle Leo's and she reaches out a feeble arm to touch his face. "Leonus, I'm sorry to say that I'll have to trouble you again by putting Ranae under your care this time."

"You won't need to. You'll still be able to look after her yourself. You're gonna get through this, you're going to be okay…" Uncle Leo just breaks down, letting the tears run free. Even though he refrains from saying it, we all know that Aurania won't have much time left to live.

"Leonus, listen to me. I know you're absolutely clueless when it comes to kids, but you've done a good job with Nate. Which is why I'm entrusting Ranae to you."

He mournfully smiles at her words. "Yeah, I have, haven't I?"

"Ranae?" Aurania calls out.

"Yes, mother?" Ranae lifts her tear-streaked face to meet her mother's eyes for one last time.

"You've been everything that I could have asked for in a daughter. I only hope that you can do the same for Nathaniel and Leonus here too," she pauses, struggling to inhale when her lungs are rapidly failing her. "We all know that it'll come to this one day, but know this – I love you so much."

"Likewise, mother…..likewise," Ranae sobs, as she gives Aurania's hands one final squeeze.

"Nazreil Va'an nar Atwell, was it?"

"T-that's right, Mrs. Aurania," Nazreil stammers.

"We've just met but I hope it wouldn't be too selfish of me to ask that you take good care of Nathaniel now, would it? He's not had many friends over the years and you're one of the few that he's had. Look out for him and make sure he behaves, will you?" She manages a feeble smile at him.

"N-not at all, Mrs. Aurania." Nazreil briefly turns to look at me. "I'll do my best," he says in a rare moment of confidence.

"That's a relief to hear. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll…I think I'll just…." Aurania trails off; the glimmer of life in her eyes finally having been extinguished. Her head lolls back as she stares unseeing into the skies above. With that, Aurania Talliscon is no more.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Whew! This has been one emotionally-charged chapter for me to write with so much going on and so many plot points for me to wrap up in this arc. Sorry for the late update, but at least I got this chapter out a few days past my usual Friday deadline. Sorry for the typos and errors if I manage to miss any. **

**And if anyone's wondering, the Commander Shepard I'm writing about is the default male preset that's featured on the box art and other promotional materials. As for the reason of why I made this choice, he's always been the true and canonical Shepard (at least in my eyes) that is at the center of the Mass Effect series. **

**Once again, thanks for reading and for still sticking with this fic. With that said, I'll see you guys this coming Friday with an update (hopefully). If not, then I'll get the next chapter up probably by next week depending on how fast I can write it. Till then, see ya! **


	18. The Price We Pay

**Author's notes: I'm finally starting to settle down from my travels and getting back into the flow of things back home. And with it, I hope to be able to sit down and work on this fic more often. In that way, I'll probably be able to meet my deadlines more consistently (I hope)**

**Anyways, the previous chapter concludes the Eden Prime arc of the story and now it's time to proceed with the next phase in Nate's intergalactic voyage. **

**As usual, the Mass Effect universe is copyright of Bioware, and I own nothing but my OCs. Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 17 – The Price We Pay 

I feel empty on the inside. That's probably the best way to describe what I'm going through right now. Which is a funny thing.

At first, I was shaken to my core by our near-death encounter with the geth. Looking back, I find it almost too hard to believe that the rest of us didn't catch a single bullet out of the hail of lead that the geth rained down on us. Oh God, that feeling of hopelessness that gripped me back on the train when I could almost _see_ the moment of death sneaking up on me. It was just...the worst feeling ever. I could literally picture a timer mercilessly counting down the last few seconds of the life I had left to live. Even after we managed to escape, I could still feel death's shadow clinging onto me; promising that it would one day come back for me. I was drenched from head to toe in cold sweat, and every single fiber of my being couldn't stop shaking. In that moment, I remembered just how hard it was to even breathe.

But once the adrenaline ebbed away and the initial shock of the attack wore off, can I finally start to let the realization of Aurania's death sink in. Like I said, it's a funny thing how the human psyche works. One moment I'm hyperventilating and the next, I find myself in solemn mourning. The process itself is nothing like how the vids and movies portray it to be though. The reality's far from it. There's nothing overly-dramatized about the scene; there weren't any hysterics, nor were there endless torrents of tears. Instead, there was just a mournful silence that hung over all of us at the train station. The memory of it is pretty much etched into my mind now – Uncle Leo and Ranae cradling Aurania's still body while Nazreil and I helplessly look on.

We must have been at the train station for what felt like ages before Alliance reinforcements showed up, wiping out any remaining geth. Even so, Uncle Leo wasn't intent on sticking around. He suggested that we leave to avoid coming into contact with Alliance personnel. At first, I just attributed his weird behavior to grief. If it was hard for me to come to terms with Aurania's death, I bet it must be ten times as bad for him – after all, they knew each other for years while working together with Dad. Ranae's not faring any better either.

Uncle Leo trots to where we landed with our skycar, gently carrying Aurania in his arms. We follow closely behind, all of us unsure of what to say, not that there's anything that can be said to break the silence. The turian tucks her gently into the back seat, while Nazreil and I get into the row behind hers in the spacious car. Ranae sits up front with Uncle Leo and after a brief exchange of words between the two, the car takes off.

Several hours later, we find ourselves standing here: before a large, solitary lakeside nested among the rolling hills on the outskirts of Constant. The tranquil surface of the lake ripples with the gentle breeze and I can hear the nocturnal fauna singing their songs of the night all around me. The deathly orange skies seem to be retracting with the departure of the geth's huge mothership until they're just remnants of a waking memory, returning the Eden Prime night to its original beauty and splendor. Underneath the moon-streaked and star-washed skies, we say our goodbyes to Aurania.

Ranae's managed to fashion a crude funeral pyre from the barks of several trees in the area. Once the pyre's completed, Uncle Leo gently lays Aurania down on it. I can see the falling tears glistening in the moonlight. He kneels on the ground beside her, taking one of her hands in his and mumbling his final farewells. It takes a while before he finally relinquishes his grasp on her and makes his way over to us. Ranae then takes her turn to spend her last moments with Aurania before pushing the pyre out into the lake.

The four of us stand by the shore watching the pyre, a ghostly silhouette against the moonlight, floating ethereally on the calm waters. The pyre reaches the middle of the lake when I finally hear Ranae's strained voice. "Do the two of you have any last words for her?"

I'm slightly taken aback by her request, in part because I've not thought of anything to say at all. My mind's still in a daze as I struggle to accept the fact that Aurania's dead….all because of me.

"Well…I…I just…" I try to call forth the words but I come up empty.

Nazreil is quick to come to my rescue. And from the sound of it, his eulogy sounds as though he's put a lot of thought into it. "Even though we met as complete strangers, I can tell that Mrs. Talliscon's a kind and caring mother who's always had the best interest of her loved ones at heart," he starts off slightly unsure of himself. He pauses to catch his breath and continues, "She's sacrificed a lot for the sake of others, something I can relate to all too well, and she didn't regret a single moment of it." His voice picks up in conviction and confidence. "And she might not have known it, but Nate has been one of my first real friends since I started my Pilgrimage. It was by pure luck that we met, and he's shown me kindness and generosity at a time when I needed it most. It's hard to find good friends and even harder still to find ones that are meant to be treasured. After seeing what Nate's had to go through, and all that he's done for me, I can't possibly sit by and ignore his predicament. It would go against everything that my Pilgrimage stands for." Nazreil concludes with a tone of finality and resolution. "Which is why I'll do my best to honor Mrs. Talliscon's dying wishes."

I turn to face him, moved by the sincerity of his words. What was previously an unfeeling and hollow husk of emotions inside of me following Aurania's death starts to feel alive again. Renewed by this newfound sense of vigor, I somehow find the words I was looking for.

"In a weird way, I felt as though Aurania was kind of like the mother I never had. But I remember now….from all those years ago, she was also there with Dad and Uncle Leo while they looked after me." As the words come to me, so do the tears. "And all this time, she never stopped looking out for both Uncle Leo and I. God...she spent the better part of her years picking up where Dad left off and look at just what it's cost her." I pause to wipe the rapidly-pooling tears in my eyes. "There's nothing I can do that will ever repay everything that she's done for me. But I can at least start by making sure that I'll see this through to the end. And even though I can't make any guarantees, I'll be damned sure to give it my all. I know that it's what Aurania would have wanted." It's all I can do to choke back my emotions as my voice strains with them. "And I don't intend to disappoint her."

Ranae only stares off into the distance, a tiny nod of her head the only sign that she acknowledged our eulogies for Aurania. "Goodbye, mother. May you find peace in the embrace of the goddess," and with that said, Ranae's arms flare blue as she uses her biotics to ignite the canisters of fuel on board the pyre.

I hear the shattering of glass as the contents spills. Then, the blue flames catch and engulf the pyre. It's an otherworldly sight; a pillar of blue burning brightly in the centre of the lake. Its luminescence illuminates the entire vicinity, basking the entire lakeside in the flickering colors of the flame. I manage to catch one last glimpse of Aurania with a peaceful smile on her face before the flames take her away from me.

We stand there motionless, watching the spectacle unfold until the last of the flames has flickered into nothingness. It takes us longer still to finally find the motivation to get our feet moving again. All four of us pile into the car, each one of us hoping that another would at least speak to break the sorrowful silence.

"So….what's next for us?" I take it upon myself to do so, seeing as nobody else is willing.

Uncle Leo finally relents too. "I guess we finish up what Aurania started out to do in the first place." He peers over his shoulder to look at me and continues on in a very defeated tone, "Our first lead would be the visions that the beacon gave you back at the dig site."

"It's as good a start as any," Ranae agrees with Uncle Leo's suggestion, and her voice is just as emotionally-drained as the turian's. "The visions will prove hard to decipher on our own, so I suggest heading back to Constant to pick up whatever's left of my mother's work. It could help us out in the long run."

"What about those guys that are chasing after me? Do you think they could still be waiting around for us back there?" I ask.

"I doubt it, not after what we've done to cover our tracks to the dig site," Ranae assures me.

It's been an incredibly long day for all of us and I see no point in raising my objections against our next course of action. If those guys are still there waiting for us, then so be it. We'll figure out a way to take care of them once we get there. Right now, having a sense of purpose will keep our minds off of Aurania for the time being.

The car takes off and we head back towards the city, a row of gleaming spires in the distance. We navigate our way through Constant's night-time traffic which doesn't seem to be as heavy as I thought it would be. Then again, I'll bet everyone's still preoccupied with the geth attack on the dig site. Thankfully, the city's unharmed although the same can't be said of the vast swathes of farmlands surrounding the dig site. Peeking out from between the arcologies are glowing streaks of ember accompanied by columns of wispy smoke that signify the charred remains of the once fertile soil. I turn my attention away from the sight; I don't need another grim reminder of what transpired down there.

"We're here." Ranae's voice snaps me out of my reverie.

"Already?" I stifle a yawn in the process, only beginning to realize just how tired I am. With the rush of adrenaline, the mental exhaustion from the beacon and then the grief of the past couple of hours, my body has all but worn itself out.

"Stay here in the car, I'll head on up alone. There's no use in taking any more unnecessary risks," Ranae says to us before exiting the vehicle. "This shouldn't take long."

I see her disappearing into the brightly-lit lobby of the Everglades Tower when my heavy eyelids decide to remind me of the comfortable bed waiting for me back in the Vanguard. I struggle to keep them open, at least until we return to the spaceport. From my befuddled consciousness, I hear someone already snoring from beside me. I turn my heavy head to look at Nazreil who's propped awkwardly against the seat, the voice modulator in his mouthpiece lighting up with each rumbling snore. How adorable, the quarian's already surrendered himself to sleep's sweet embrace.

Uncle Leo opens up the car door and steps outside. He just leans back against the car, eyes transfixed on something in the skies above. I open the door to join him too, in hopes that the cool night breeze would help keep me awake. I look up to try and spot what's captured his attention but all I can make out is the night sky awash with the city's lights. It could just be my sleep-deprived eyes playing tricks on me, but I swear I can almost make out some extensive carnage on one of the higher floors of the Everglades Tower, just right around the corner where it slopes out of my line of sight. I brush it off as just a figment of my imagination.

"Hey Uncle Leo, look….I'm sorry for what happened to Aurania. I know you two were very close," I start.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Nate. You know it wasn't your fault," the turian replies softly. I expected him to at least pin some form of blame on me, seeing as how I was responsible that we ended up in the dig site. His forgiving tone infuriates me even more when I know I'm the one who's in the wrong here.

"But still, if it wasn't because of me, all of this wouldn't have happened in the first place," I protest.

"Nate, trying to shoulder all the blame is not going to bring her back, you know. And besides, we would gladly put our lives on the line for you; we owe your father that much at least," he continues on, managing a crooked smile for me. I know that expression from anywhere – it's his way of telling me that he'll handle it; that everything's going to be alright. His response only poses more questions about Dad. What has Dad done for them that they'd be willing to give their lives to protect me? I make a mental note to inquire about it when the time's right.

"But if only…." I trail off, defeated. My head feels so heavy right now it's hard to even summon the strength to argue with him.

"We've all had a long and rough day, Nate. Just get back into the car and we'll talk more about this when we've had a good night's rest," he takes me by the shoulder and gently nudges me back into the car. I oblige without hesitation.

It's hard to tell how long I must have had my eyes when I hear Ranae returning to the car. I strain my eyes open to see her getting into the passenger seat, with an optical storage disk in hand. Without realizing it, I shut my eyes again, deeming it far too much effort to keep them open. I settle for eavesdropping instead.

"So….all on the disk?" Uncle Leo's flanging voice reaches my ears.

"No….her main backup…..Citadel," Ranae responds.

"Damn…..can't help much…no choice...our next stop."

Those are the only few snippets of their conversation I manage to catch before lapsing back into an uneasy slumber that always seems to teeter on the brink of unconsciousness and the waking world. The next thing I know is that the lurching of the car jostles me awake. Uncle Leo prods Nazreil out of his sleep and we emerge from the car to find ourselves in front of Constant's spaceport.

Despite all that's happened, the spaceport's still a constant hub of activity even at this hour of the night. People are still coming and going but it doesn't take me long to notice the crowd's collective air of frustration. The presence of Alliance security personnel is noticeably heavier than when we first arrived and I can see plenty of the crowd arguing with security all over the spaceport.

"What do you mean most public shuttles off-world are grounded?! I have a very important business meet on Elysium that I need to attend! And I've booked my tickets months in advance!" I hear one of the disgruntled patrons, an asari dressed in a snazzy business dress, taking it up with one of the security guards.

"Sorry m'am, but following the geth attack, we've been ordered to delay most civilian routes off-world for security reasons. But rest assure that the delay is only temporary," the guard curtly replies.

The four of us weave our way through the crowd towards the private docking bays. Even security seems to be tightened up in this area, judging by the numerous guards posted around the immigrations desk.

"Stop, I'll need all of you to present your forms of identification, please," a stringent-looking woman holds one of her hands up. We do as she says, producing our IDs on our omni-tools which she scans meticulously. "State your order of business and your inbound destination," she continues.

"We're travelling to the Citadel to settle the will of one of my acquaintances," Uncle Leo responds.

"I see. Well, I'm sorry to hear about that." Her expression softens somewhat as she checks over our respective IDs on her omni-tool. "You're travelling with some strange company, if I may say so myself, Mr. Quinn. It's not every day I see a human, turian, quarian and asari travelling together," she cocks an eyebrow at the sight of our little party.

"Well, Nathaniel here's a foster son of mine and we've hired the quarian as our ship's onboard mechanic. Ms. Talliscon's here the next of kin of the deceased and I'm responsible for bringing her back to the Citadel," Uncle Leo says as he cooks up an elaborate set of lies without even batting an eyelid.

"Huh," she grunts. "I'm sorry for the increased security around here Mr. Quinn, but we can't afford to take any chances after that geth attack." Even as she says so, I can spot her men scanning us over with their omni-tools. Thank goodness Uncle Leo had enough sense of mind to leave all of our weapons back in the car.

"It's no trouble at all. I just find it hard to believe that the geth would choose to attack Eden Prime of all places. They've never been spotted outside the Veil before."

"The galaxy's a crazy place made even crazier in the times we live in." The female guard shuts off her omni-tool and orders her men to step aside to let us through. "Well, it looks like all of your documents check out. Safe travels, Mr. Quinn."

"Thank you." Uncle Leo graciously nods.

I yearn so much for sleep at this point that I'm dragging my feet every step of the way towards the landing pad where we docked the Vanguard. The outdoor, hedge-lined walkway illuminated by accompanying garden lights seem to pass by in a blur as I subconsciously will my feet to move. The Vanguard's sitting there just like how we left it but what greets us at the base of the ramp surprises all of us, for better or worse.

"Finally, took you all long enough," comes Ralak's deep and guttural voice. The krogan gets up from where he's lounging against the railings of the docking bays, just adjacent to the aerobridge leading into the Vanguard's airlock.

"What do you want this time, Ralak?" Uncle Leo only sighs, lacking his usual edge of disdain for the krogan.

"You all must have heard about the geth attack and how the Alliance is shutting off all commercial off-world flights right?" he says.

"And…this has to do with you how?" I ask, honestly not seeing how the recent turn of events could have affected him.

He huffs in annoyance but continues on, "I manage to hitch a ride on a shuttle leaving this place until the geth showed up. And now, the ship's been grounded until further notice so there goes my ride off of this planet."

"So wait for another one then," Uncle Leo irritably suggests.

"Who knows just how long this lockdown's going to last," Ralak says exasperatedly as he starts to pace around a little. "I can't stand a moment longer waiting around here – the place's just too…peaceful for my tastes. And as much as I hate asking for favors, the way I see it, you're my only way out of here."

"Just….just get on," Uncle Leo relents and brushes his way past Ralak to get into the aerobridge.

"That's it? I was expecting more of a fight –" Ralak comments snidely.

I cut him off with a very somber stare and a slow shake of my head. He must have caught the message as he shuts up mid sentence. He picks up his bag of belongings and is the last to get onboard the ship. Once we're all aboard, the airlock doors hiss shut behind us. The familiar confines of the ship are a comfortable sight; its hulls protecting us from the madness that's outside. Only now am I starting to realize just how much I've missed being on board the Vanguard again.

Uncle Leo beckons to Nazreil to join him over at the threshold of the stairwell that descends into the engine deck. "Hey, I know it's been a very long day for you but could you just do a sweep of the engine room to see if you can find the tracking beacon that they've planted on the ship? Meanwhile, I'll look up here."

"Sure thing, Mr. Leo," Nazreil says, punctuated halfway by what I assume must be the quarian equivalent of a yawn. He then disappears down the stairwell while Uncle Leo has his omni-tool out to scan the living quarters for any sign of the tracking beacon.

"Here, I'll help you out too, Mr. Daelon," Ranae offers.

The turian declines her offer with a dismissive wave of his free hand. "You've gone through a lot today, Ranae. I suggest you just lie down and rest up." Gesturing to me, "We've got one last guest room available which Nate will be more than happy to show you to."

Ranae doesn't even argue with Uncle Leo's request but who could blame her? She's exhausted and still in grief over her mother's passing.

"Come on, your room's right down here," I say, leading her towards the stern of the ship. Ranae brushes past Ralak, throwing the imposing krogan a wary look in the process. I stop in front of the room diagonally opposite from mine and next to Uncle Leo's. "Here's your room."

She takes a peek inside and enters the room without so much as a single word to me. She dumps a travel bag on the bed which I didn't even know she was carrying and immediately shuts the door behind her.

"Uh…..good night, I guess?" I say awkwardly, scratching the back of my head.

"Mr. Leo, I think I found it!" I hear Nazreil's voice coming from down below in the engine deck. The quarian reappears at the stairwell moments later, beaming triumphantly at the object he holds in his hands. It's little more than an unassuming, rectangular-shaped device with a large, glowing light in its centre.

Uncle Leo rushes over to inspect the tracking device and takes it into the palm of his talons. He crushes it without a thought, and I see its light display slowly flickering out of existence. The turian opens up the airlock doors and chucks what remains of the device outside. "That should finally get them off of our trail," the turian remarks. He turns to face us. "Go get some sleep, you two. You look like you could need it."

"What about you?" I ask, slightly concerned for Uncle Leo's well-being.

"I'll just get the ship off-world first before I decide to turn in," he replies. From the looks of it, he needs sleep just as much as the two of us if his drooping mandibles and blood-shot eyes are anything to go by.

"Okay, but I promise me not that you'll not stay up any later than you already have to. You're just as worse off as we are, Uncle Leo," I remind him.

"I promise. Now go on to bed already, it's _way _past your bedtime, you two," Uncle Leo half-heartedly jokes.

Nazreil and I head on to our respective rooms and upon entering my room, all I recall is the bed coming up to greet me and then the sweet relief of sleep overtaking me. Good riddance Eden Prime, I've just had about enough of you.

* * *

I guess it took about a day and a half for us to finally arrive on the Citadel. It's exactly like how I remembered it the first time I was here. The throngs of people going about their lives on the Wards' main avenues and thoroughfares; the hustle and bustle of a multicultural and urban metropolis; and thankfully, the sense of order and peace that Omega is painfully devoid of are a welcome sight. I'm just hoping that my stay here this time around won't end up like my previous visit.

Today's foray down into the Zakera Ward finds Nazreil, Ranae and I looking for Aurania's main backup drives that should be in a secure vault storage in one of the Thiossoni Bank outlets in the ward. Uncle Leo offers to stay behind on board the Vanguard just in case. As for Ralak, the krogan was still down in the engine deck where he's made his temporary accommodation when we left. But I'm sure he'll be off the ship soon enough to hitch a ride aboard a shuttle to his next destination, wherever that may be.

Seeing as how there's no day-night cycle on the Wards, my omni-tool's time display is the only thing keeping me from getting unsettled by the unearthly prospect of a static sky which doesn't impart the time of day. Right now, my omni-tool tells me that its 1430 hours in Galactic Standard Time which I instinctively equate to that of late afternoon in human time. It won't matter though because most of the establishments down on the Wards are open all around the clock to maximize profits.

We get off a Rapid Transit Shuttle that we're on and arrive in front of Lerrecea Avenue, the financial district of Zakera Ward. Everyone here's all dressed in business suits or their species' equivalent of it as they go about doing…..intergalactic financial and banking things, I must assume.

"You sure Mr. Leo was right in sending just the three of us alone to retrieve your Mrs. Talliscon's backup drives unarmed?" Nazreil anxiously inquires.

"Just relax, will you? If anything goes wrong, I've at least got my biotics," Ranae replies tersely.

"Besides, there are plenty of people here. I doubt if they're crazy enough to try anything with C-Sec and the crowds watching on," I say, trying to assuage some of the quarian's doubts.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

It takes us several minutes to walk down the district until we finally come upon a branch of Thiossoni Banks which we promptly enter. The inside of the bank's main area is well-decorated, incorporating a motif of royalty with the sleek and utilitarian nature of its premises. I spot what looks to be gold gilded onto various surfaces while the soft, green glow of its lighting fixtures bathe the entirety of the room in a jade-colored ambience.

"Wow, pretty. I hope that the bank's just as secure then," I absent-mindedly remark.

For some reason, I notice that Nazreil's making it a point to keep his head low and he's doing that nervous thing that he does with his hands again. I look up to see that all of the bank's patrons are giving the lone quarian in the room apprehensive and disdainful stares. Ranae makes her way over to one of the tellers on one side of the room and after conducting several security verifications, she beckons for us to join her.

"Come on Nazreil, let's go. Just forget about those guys," I grab him by the shoulder and lead him towards where Ranae's waiting by another set of heavy doors guarded by two rifle-wielding turian guards.

"Ms. Ranae Talliscon?" one of the turian guard speaks up while the other does an identity scan on her. The doors unlock and part open. He nods towards the door. "You're cleared to enter. Just don't try anything funny, okay?" the guard directs the last part of his sentence towards Nazreil.

We pass through the doors and four sets of elevators sit waiting for us on the other side. We enter one of the elevator cars and Ranae pushes for the button marked B3. A short elevator ride later and we're out again in a long hallway lined with safety deposit boxes on both walls. Ranae brings us to the appropriate deposit box and keys in the combination, allowing the box to disengage from the wall. She then takes it to one of the private viewing rooms located further down the hallway where we can examine its contents.

"Alright, time to see what mother's managed to gather in her studies over the years," Ranae says to no one in particular, her voice a little tense at what she might find within.

Something's off here as soon as we lift the lid. For such a large box, there's only like a small holographic recorder that is nested in the middle of it. A small note sits below it.

"What?" Ranae cries in disbelief. "This can't be the backup, where's the rest of it?" She scoops the recorder out and proceeds to inspect every corner of the box, hoping to find a hidden compartment or something. "No, no, no! This can't be it, there's got to be more to it!"

Ranae looks on in defeat until she finally decides to pick up the note and recorder. There's a puzzled look on her face as she reads through the note while inspecting the recording device. Then, she closes her eyes as if trying to recall something. "A dance with the goddess," she mutters.

A beep of affirmation resounds from the device and a small screen pops out from it in which the face of an unknown man occupies the centre of the screen. He seems to be sitting on a work table of some sort while a large science lab serves as the backdrop behind him. There's also something uncannily familiar about him too; those onyx-black eyes and the jet-black hair that's fringed with streaks of gray.

"If you're seeing this, then Aurania must be…." The man struggles to say the words, "then it must mean she's dead." He lets out a long, remorseful sigh. "But whatever you expected to find here, it's long gone now. I've taken the liberty of it myself to move it somewhere more secure. It isn't safe to have it stored there; not when there's evidence of it on public records."

Then, it hits me.

"Dad?"

I instantly lean forward to confirm my suspicions. There's no doubt about it. It is him. So he's still alive out there somewhere.

"Hush! There's still more!"

"But if you truly need the data that's stored in this drive, then come seek me out at Peak 18 in Noveria. And….and if you do get the chance to see Nate again, tell him….tell him that I love him so much and not a day goes by when I'm not missing him. Until then, stay safe and take good care of Nate."

And with that, the message just abruptly ends. Ranae tries replaying it but to no avail. The message's encrypted which prevents it from playing back.

"That was Mr. Sunderland's doing? Goddess, just what is he thinking, moving a vital piece of my mother's work?! Did she even know about this?!" Ranae exclaims in frustration, fast losing her cool.

"Hey, you heard what my dad said. It wasn't safe storing her backup drives here. Those men or whoever it is that's after me could have gotten their hands on it!" I start to raise my voice, trying to defend Dad's actions. "Besides, we know where it is so we can just go there and grab it ourselves."

She paces around the room for a bit, trying to calm herself down. "Fine, fine. I'm sorry for losing my temper like that but you're right. Let's head to Noveria to get the backup drives and figure out your visions. If your father's still there, we might be in luck. We could skip this whole scavenger hunt that we have going on and ask him about his cryptic message ourselves," she replies in a lower voice but no less coldly.

"Fine. Sounds like a plan to me," I respond, breathing heavily.

"So….if you two are done, let's get on back to the ship. I'm sure Mr. Leo would be interested to hear about this latest development," Nazreil timidly suggests.

"Fine," the both of us say at the same time.

Uncle Leo's going to be interested to hear about this, all right. But if we're travelling to Noveria, it means I can finally get to see Dad again and get to the bottom of this whole thing. I only hope that he's still there.

* * *

**Author's Notes: And another chapter down! Just in time for my regularly scheduled update too! Looks like we're going to be seeing lots of ice and frigid cold in the next few chapters! That should be fun. **

**Anyways, thanks to all for being faithful readers and subscribing to this story. It really helps put on smile on my face when I see that you're all enjoying this. **

**Until next week, stay tuned for another update. With summer drawing to a close, I hope to be able to stick to a consistent schedule during the start of the upcoming fall semester in college. It's going to be **_**hectic**_**. So, see you next Friday! **


	19. Lock & Load

**A/ N: So I'm writing this chapter on the last week of summer break before the next school year starts. Which means that probably after this update, forthcoming chapters are going to be a updated a lot more sporadically as I try to juggle any free time I have in between classes for this fic, my social life and sweet, glorious sleep. And from the looks of my schedule of classes, this fall semester is going to be **_**brutal**_**.**

**As usual, the Mass Effect universe is copyright of Bioware, and I own nothing but my OCs. Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 18 – Lock & Load 

I'm getting too old for this. First, it was Sunderland, and now….Aurania. Spirits….she doesn't deserve any of it, not after all that she's done. Get her out of your head, Leonus. You've spent long enough mourning her and right now, you've got people counting on you more than ever. Nate, Ranae and even Nazreil – they're banking on you to get them out of this mess. I breathe out a heavy sigh.

Honestly, I don't know just how much more of this I'm able to take. But a promise is a promise and for better or worse, we turians honor our word. Still, is it too much to ask for all this crap to have happened years earlier when I don't sprain my limbs as much or have my back give out on me as often? But I must admit that there are worse forms of mid-life crises that most other turians go through. Look at me, rambling on like an old coot. Oh, who am I kidding? That's pretty much who I am at this point in life – just a washed up has-been.

I nurse the mug of steaming hot coffee in my hands. I really must give the humans credit for coming up with this wonderful concoction. It's fragrant, aromatic and it provides the buzz I need to kick start my day – this beverage is simply magic! I take another long draught of the hot liquid, feeling its warmness radiating outwards from my belly. But more than that, it also helps to calm my nerves. I take another glance at the clock on the dining table. It's already been close to 2 hours since those kids have been gone. Spirits, I just hope I made the right call. If it wasn't because I needed to keep an eye out for that stupid krogan, I would already be by their sides.

"And speak of the devil," I sarcastically mutter when I see the brute emerging from the stairwell.

The krogan shoots me an annoyed look. "What the hell does that even mean? You know, as far as your people go, I'll go on ahead and say that you're one hell of a weird turian."

I fold my arms in mock amusement, my curiosity piqued by his words. "Oh, how so? Care to elaborate?"

"Just…just forget I ever said anything," he dismissively waves me off as he crosses the kitchen towards the refrigerator.

"How much longer do you plan on sticking around, krogan? The Citadel's a good place as any to catch a ride to another god-forsaken corner of the galaxy that you plan to call home," I ask.

"I damn well plan on leaving after I get a bite to eat," he sticks his head into the refrigerator. "Bah! What do you people even eat? There's not even a slab of varren meat or a bottle of ryncol in here at all!" he exclaims as he rummages through its contents.

"Well, excuse us if we're not as barbaric as you krogans," I reply sardonically.

He closes the fridge, satisfied with several slabs of raw steak which he piles onto a plate. He growls threateningly at me, which I just brush off. "Remember who is it that has gladly offered you a ride off-world twice now. And to think a krogan would be indebted to a turian, how ironic," I chuckle darkly.

I can tell that he's stumped for words when no biting remark comes from the krogan while he goes on preparing his meal. For several minutes, blissful silence hangs between the two of us, interrupted only by the sounds of kitchen utensils as Ralak goes about cooking his steaks. I take another swig of my coffee, eyes trained on the airlock diagonally opposite of me just in case Nate and the rest return.

I see Ralak making his way into the living room from the corner of my eye when the lock on the airlock doors turns green. "Finally, you're back – " I say when some gun-toting stranger walks through the door.

All I remember is the training from the military kicking in as my body hardwires itself to grab cover behind the nearest, sturdy-looking piece of object I see. In this case, it's the kitchen counter that's right behind me. In an instant, I leap out of my chair and vault over the counter just as soon as I hear the first of the bullets flying.

"What the?!"

The krogan must have also spotted our unknown assailant and has already abandoned his steaks for cover behind the sofa setting. "Just what's going on here?!" he yells. I can hardly hear him as bullets ping all over the place, shattering decorative ornaments and pock-marking the ship's pristine hull.

Drawing upon the military playbook that's ingrained in almost every turian's head from their obligatory military service, I evaluate the battlefield – the first step in every plan of engagement. On their side: four armed men, all human, fully-clad in armor and armed to the teeth. It's those people after Nate again; but how the hell did they track us down to the Citadel? We've already gotten rid of the tracking beacon back on Eden Prime! I push this matter out of my head for the time being as I've got more pressing issues to worry about. Ralak and I are unarmed, and we're both not even wearing any form of protective armor. Looks like we've got the disadvantage where equipment and numbers are concerned but those guys made the mistake of barging into the limited confines of the starship…..with a pissed-off krogan on board. Heh, rookies.

Sure enough, the krogan unleashes hell on these unsuspecting chumps. With a mighty roar, the krogan sends the couch flying at the men in the doorway with little effort. The heavy couch collapses on two of the gunmen, effectively pinning them down while the other two manage to dive away. I'll leave Ralak to handle the one in the living room while I have my eyes set on the other one sprawled on the kitchen floor.

Before he's able to pick himself up, I'm already on him. He's got a shotgun in hand which I make sure he doesn't even get a chance to use. I plant a firm foot down on his right hand that's holding onto the weapon until he lets go. In a cry of pain, he relinquishes his grip on the gun but not before his free arm pulls my feet out from under me. I collapse to the floor, the wind completely knocked out of me.

He leaps agilely onto his feet and makes a move towards the shotgun. I manage to kick the weapon away. The gun slides harmlessly across the smooth tiles of the kitchen floor just as he bends down to scoop it up. His face is close enough for me to land another kick which connects with a satisfying crunch. He reels away, hands clutching his bloody face. I pick myself up and seize the opportunity to whoop his sorry ass. The thunderous boom of another shotgun reverberates with ear-shattering intensity in the close quarters of the ship. This causes me to look in the direction of the krogan.

Ralak wrestles for control of his assailant's shotgun with ease, as I can see him pointing the smoking barrel of the gun just mere inches away from his own face. His other hand has the guy in a vice-like grip, lifting his feet off the ground. "You lying, backstabbing sons of bitches," he growls before headbutting the poor man with skull-crushing force. The guy drops limply to the ground.

I really must be getting old for that momentary distraction to throw me off my guard. Before I know it, my opponent has recovered enough to tackle me. Thankfully, I manage to hold my ground and remain on my feet but not without crashing into the counter behind me. The impact rattles my already frail back and I cry out in pain. In retaliation, I rain my elbow down on him, the sharp edges of my carapace digging into his back, drawing blood.

"Get off!" I kick him away the moment I feel his grip on me giving way. He stumbles backwards, hands already reaching to pull out his sidearm. He gives a sideways glance towards the krogan who's already relieved one of his men of his shotgun. Realizing that the tables have turned on him, he wastes no time in backing up towards the airlock. Then, he just takes off, leaving the rest of his men behind.

Before the thought registers in my head to interrogate the two men pinned by the couch, Ralak already has his shotgun trained on them, murder evident in his eyes.

"Don't –" I start.

Too late. Two ear-shattering shots later and all that's left of them is a bloody, mangled mess. Spirits, I've always hated the trauma that a point-blank shot from a shotgun can inflict. Well, so much for finally trying to get some information on who's orchestrating their hunt for Nate. Then I remember the other guy who got his face caved in by the krogan. I rush towards him and check for a pulse. Nothing.

"Damn it!" I exclaim in frustration. "For once, could you please _not _kill every single living thing that pisses you off?" I say through gritted teeth.

"You saw for yourself just how well-armed those guys were! I was doing you a favor! Who knew what they'd be capable of if we just left them there!" he retorts.

I lean my face closely into the krogan's. "You might not know this but those guys have been chasing Nate and I down for years now," I say venomously. "And this is the closest I've gotten to actually finding out who's behind this whole operation and putting an end to it once and for all."

I jab an accusing talon at him. "A guy like you….I'll bet you know damned well what it's like to live your life constantly on the run. Aren't you sick of it? If you had the chance, wouldn't _you_ want to stop running and start fighting back?"

He's silent for a while until he finally replies. "Well, excuse me if I didn't fucking know. I'm just not the type who sticks his nose into other people's business." I just turn away from the krogan, sighing exasperatedly as I survey the mess the ship's in.

"And yes, you're right – I'd give everything if it meant I could stop running and start living life for myself again," the krogan somberly adds.

"Let's just get these bodies out of here before Nate comes back," I say, defeated.

* * *

Whew. Thank God for an uneventful journey back from the bank. There weren't any bullets that we needed to run away from and neither were there any mysterious men that chased us through the Wards. We nonchalantly walk through the crowds at the Citadel's spaceport, trying to blend in. The sight of the Vanguard is a relief and I quicken my pace to get into the relative safety of the ship.

"What's the rush, Nate?" Nazreil calls out from behind me as I overtake him to walk alongside Ranae who has the safe box tucked beneath one of her arms.

"You think Uncle Leo's willing to take his chances in bringing us to Noveria?" I ask, making an attempt at small talk with Ranae. She's a lot more stoic and cold than I remembered her being back on New Madison. Just what is up with that?

"If it means getting my mother's backup drive and probably the answers we need from your father, then I don't see any reason why he won't," she curtly replies. I'm slightly offended by her direct and no-nonsense response but I pay it no attention. I want to get a normal conversation going with her; and I'm not too sure if it's because I still harbored a huge crush on her.

"Any idea on what this Noveria place is like?" I urge on, not willing to give up just yet.

"From what I've heard, it's a cold, icy and a very uninhabitable place. Which is why people don't pay it much attention – the perfect site for clandestine and controversial research projects to be carried out," she replies again in a terse manner.

We cross the aerobridge leading to Vanguard's airlock where I key in the appropriate combination to unlock its doors. The doors slide open and we walk on through.

"Yeah, I know but – holy crap, what the hell just happened in here?"

Surprise would definitely be an understatement. I do a quick double take at the ravaged state of the ship's interior – furniture are all haphazardly strewn about, shattered pieces of ornaments litter the floor and bullet marks adorn the hull. My feet steps on something funny and I have to suppress my urge to puke as I step on a dried pool of someone's blood. From the looks of it, somebody was shooting up the place while we were out. Uncle Leo's trying to get the blood stains out while Ralak sits at the ruined kitchen table, eating his plate of steaks.

"Oh god, what happened in here, Uncle Leo?" I rush over to him.

His eyes express relief and he gets up to give me a crushing hug. "Oh thank the spirits you're all okay. After what happened in here, I was worried they'd get to you too." The turian inspects me over to make sure I'm all in one piece. I have to admit that it gets a little awkward at times; the way Uncle Leo's so overprotective of me.

"We made it to the bank and back just fine, Uncle Leo. Nobody followed us or anything, I think," I say, racking my head to recall any suspicious individual that could have been tailing us on our way back to the starport. None comes to mind.

"He's right. Nobody was following us, I'm sure of it," Ranae chimes in, lending credence to my words.

Uncle Leo takes notice of the items slung under Ranae's arms. "Speaking of which, did you three find Aurania's main backup drives back at the back?" he asks.

Ranae, Nazreil and I look at each other. Nazreil's the first to speak up. "We didn't, but we found something else instead, Mr. Leo. You'd definitely be interested in what we found."

Uncle Leo has his mouth slightly agape as he stares at us, eagerly anticipating our discovery. "So, what did you three find?" he asks more gravely now.

"We found a recording of Dad," I say at last.

A stunned silence fills the air while Uncle Leo allows the words to sink in. "A….a recording of your father? Impossible." His voice is barely above a whisper as his eyes go wide in surprise. But he soon focuses back on the present. "Can you play the recording back for me?"

"We can't, the thing's encrypted to prevent any future playbacks. I'm sorry," Ranae says apologetically.

"I can try to bypass the encryption protocols to get the playback function working again," Nazreil offers.

"You get started on that, Nazreil," and turning his attention to me, "Did he mention at all where we can at least find him?"

"Yes, and apparently, Mr. Sunderland also has taken the liberty to store my mother's backup drives with him for safekeeping," Ranae points out as she crosses her arms, clearly not amused.

The turian just slumps back into one of the sofa chairs that are still left standing in the living quarters. "Spirits, this day just keeps on getting better and better. So, where is he right now?"

"Some place called Noveria," I answer.

Uncle Leo closes his eyes and rubs his temples. "Looks like we're headed back to where it all started," he cryptically remarks. But I'm managing to piece together the puzzle well enough to know that Noveria's ground zero for Dad's experiments – where I was created.

"So I can safely assume Noveria's our next destination then, Mr. Leo?" Nazreil speaks up from where he's at the kitchen, not taking his eyes off Ralak who's savagely tearing into his meal.

"From the looks of it, I guess it is," Uncle Leo tiredly responds.

Ranae drops the contents of the safe on the kitchen counter and picks up where Uncle Leo left off in trying to get the blood stains out from the floor. She pours detergent on the stains and gets to scrubbing them off. "Let me help with this, Mr. Daelon. I don't intend to have my new home looking like a battlefield," she says.

"Thanks. I don't think my back would have lasted a minute longer," he groans.

Deciding to make myself useful, I grab another piece of rag and get down on my knees to help Ranae out. The stains are coming off, but they sure are taking their sweet time in doing so. "So, when are we leaving for Noveria? First thing the next morning?" I ask, trying not to gag at the sight of the blood.

Uncle Leo considers my question before replying, "Not quite. We've got preparations to make before we leave. After what happened in here today, I don't think we can afford to get caught off guard ever again." He gets up from the couch and beady eyes reflect a fiery spark of determination. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few phone calls to make." With that said, he strides into the cockpit, shutting the door behind him.

"Ralak, you plan on sticking around even until Noveria? There's nothing out there, at least from what I've heard of the place," I ask the krogan, unsure of what his plans are. Truth be told, he doesn't stand to gain anything to keep on hanging around here; so why isn't he gone yet? Knowing the krogan, he'd sooner leave than be caught up in a pain-in-the-ass problem that's not even his own.

He takes his attention off his meal long enough to put my doubts to rest. "Your 'friends' barged in here, ruined a good meal of mine and as if that wasn't good enough, they then tried to _kill_ me," he growls. "After that little stunt they pulled, you think I'm going to just let them get away? Let me set one thing straight for ya, kid. Jorgal Ralak doesn't forget. And he sure as hell doesn't forgive." He takes another big bite from his final slab of steak. "Besides, I figured you guys could use some extra muscle on board. In return, I get to stay on this ritzy ship a little while longer. Seems like one hell of a deal to me."

Revenge. It's always something as simple as revenge with these kinds of character. "Have you told Uncle Leo about this?" I voice my concerns. I'm not exactly one hundred percent of someone as shady as Ralak staying on board even if the krogan did save my life and I don't think Uncle Leo would probably approve of this…uh, arrangement either.

"Don't need to. He'll come round to it soon enough," the krogan smirks as he finishes up the last of his steak. His words and the way he's just forcing his presence upon us cause a sense of uneasiness to settle into the pits of my stomach.

"What are you looking at, quarian? Didn't your mother tell you it was rude to stare?!" Ralak bangs the table, glaring daggers at Nazreil.

"Um…uh, nothing!" Nazreil stammers as he grabs the box off the counter and makes a beeline for his room.

"That's what I thought."

* * *

After a tiring night of cleaning up the mess in the Vanguard's living quarters, we start the next morning with a trip down into the Tayseri Ward. When I say all of us, I mean _all _of us. The four of us stick in close proximity of each other as Uncle Leo guides us to some place on the Ward while Ralak hangs back at a comfortable distance. Thankfully, there wasn't too much of a drama going on last night when Uncle Leo found out about Ralak's decision to stay with us. The krogan's a good enough fighter and after seeing what he can do first-hand to anybody that opposes him, Uncle Leo had come to begrudgingly accept Ralak's terms. Another extra gunman couldn't hurt, provided if we could trust the krogan to stay on our side.

Uncle Leo has yet to tell us where we're heading this morning, and he's keeping silent about it too whenever I ask him about our destination. Wherever we're going, it must be important.

"Well, here we are," he says as we stop in front of a glass-fronted store on one of the Ward's main thoroughfare.

I look up at the words etched across the top of the store. They read, 'Krysarae Armory' while neon signage taking the form of firearms dances across the storefront's glass. This isn't what I think it's going to be, right?

"Get in and let's be quick about it," he motions for us towards the door. "And keep your hands where I can see them at all times, krogan. No funny business." I hear Uncle Leo saying to Ralak behind me after all of us have entered.

Woah.

"Woah," Nazreil exclaims, apparently sharing my sentiments. Even Ranae can't help but feel just the least bit impressed.

The interior of the store itself is pretty spacious. Two long counters snake across two sides of the store; one in front of us connected to the other on the left. Behind the counter are racks and mounts holding up multitudes of guns of all shapes and sizes. The counter themselves house guns, mostly handguns and other assorted sidearm. The center of the store is filled with shelves displaying all sorts of weapon mods. Optical scopes, extended barrels, underslung attachments, specialized ammunition; they have it all. This is like the candy shop for somewhat of a gun nut like me.

Uncle Leo proceeds to the front counter where a salarian is manning it. "I don't suppose if I could see your store manager, could I? Just tell him that Leonus is here," he says to the salarian storekeeper.

"Just wait one moment, sir," the salarian courteously replies as he pops his omni-tool open to contact the manager.

Several moments later, a door behind the counter slides open and out emerges a primp and well-dressed turian. His eyes widen in delight as he takes notice of Uncle Leo. "Leonus! How long has it been?" He nimbly vaults over the counter to get to Uncle Leo. That doesn't seem very professional-like at all.

"Too long, Krysarae. It's been far too long," Uncle Leo says as he pulls the other turian into a hug.

"How have you been, my old friend? I've not seen you ever since….well you know," Krysarae exchanges a friendly pat on Uncle Leo's shoulders.

"Eh, I can't complain but it's nothing compared to what you have here. You're doing really well for yourself here, aren't you?" Uncle Leo beams with admiration.

"You know how it is, Leonus. Once I retired from the military, I decided to put that business acumen of mine to good use. I pooled my resources, set up my own business and well," he gestures around to his store, "here I am, supplying defense contracts to C-Sec and other private security companies."

"Well, I'm glad that at least one of our squad made it big," Uncle Leo says.

"Now, back to the reason why you called me the night before," Krysarae's voice suddenly takes on a serious tone. He leads Uncle Leo by the shoulder around the counter to the door which he first emerged from. "Are these guys with you too?"

"Yeah, they are," Uncle Leo replies. "And yes, like it or not, the krogan can be trusted. He's saved my ass more times than I'd care to admit."

"If you say so," Krysarae beckons us over. We join the two turians in front of what I can now see is a heavily-locked door. "Pitier, I'll put you in charge of the place while I attend to these clients of mine. Oh and also, update me on transaction 450A with Elanus Risk Control once I return."

"Yes sir, will do," the salarian store attendant chimes attentively.

Krysarae keys in a password on the door lock as well as the prints of his talon before the authentication is granted to open the door. Whatever's inside, it must be valuable. Once we're all inside, he securely shuts the door behind us and we find ourselves in one corner of a room dimly illuminated by a single overhead lamp.

"Now, I've gotten everything all prepared for you. And from what you've told me, it sounds like you're getting into something really dangerous," Krysarae locks his eyes on Uncle Leo. "Spirits, I worry for you, Leonus. You're not exactly in the best of shape to be doing this, you know," he says, concerned.

"It's a promise I've made to an old friend of mine, and I intend to see it through to the end. And don't worry, I won't be doing this alone," Uncle Leo assures him.

The other turian looks at Uncle Leo, worry etched in his eyes. He sighs. "Just…try not to do anything stupid, okay?" Krysarae walks further into the gloom of the room. "Follow me. Everything you need is further down the room." The lights flicker on with each and every step he takes into the room, showing to us that the room is much larger and longer than I first thought it is. Lined along both ends of the room are industrial shelves that hold crates after crates of weapons. The sight alone is enough to take my breath away.

"Uncle Leo, you're not doing what I think you're planning on doing, are you?" I ask, trying my best to hide my barely-concealed glee and excitement.

He glances over his shoulder at me. "Yes, yes I am."

We stop in front of several stacks of neatly-arranged crates, some of them with the lids popped open, exposing their contents. "Here we are, licenses and all. Just promise me you're not going to go on a shooting spree with these things," Krysarae half-jokingly remarks.

Uncle Leo's already digging through the stacks of crates, taking inventory of all the guns that's there. He picks up a powerful-looking assault rifle and turns it over in his hands, inspecting it. "Well, what are you guys waiting for? They're not loaded, so feel free to have a look," he calls over to us.

"All of these brand new toys for us?" Ralak chuckles. "Guess this makes up for all the birthday gifts I never got."

Nazreil's the first to dive over to the stacks of crates like a coiled spring let loose. "Keelah, just look at all these top-of-the-line models! Wow, a Crossfire Mark 8 Rifle!" he excitedly exclaims as he goes from one crate to the next, opening them up to see what other glorious weapons awaited inside. Just seeing the fun that he's having is all the reason I need to jump on the bandwagon and peruse each and every single one of the guns. "I thought the Sokolov Mark 9s didn't even hit the market yet?" Nazreil just trails off, talking to nobody in particular.

In no time at all, we're all rummaging through the contents of the crate, browsing through all the small arms and their accompanying mods. "All of this for us, Uncle Leo? You're not kidding, are you?"

The old turian manages a coy smile in my direction. "Now we'll be ready for the next time those guys come after us." Turning to Krysarae, "I just want to thank you for all this. This is really so much more than what I expected."

"It's nothing. After all, it's the least I can do for my squad leader whom I owe my life to," he replies. "Oh, before I forget, I managed to get this for you." He hands over what looks to be a very old handgun to Uncle Leo. The weapon is distinctively turian in design; rugged and battle-worn. Even the exterior of the weapon is encased in a series of metal platings resembling their creators' own physiology.

Uncle Leo takes it with a look of complete disbelief. "I thought I relinquished it back to the military like all the other issued small arms? How did you..?"

"I pulled a few strings with some contacts of mine back on Palaven. It wasn't easy but I knew you've always wanted it back."

He holds the gun in the palm of his talons, longingly looking it over almost as if he's welcoming back an old friend. "It even feels the same from all those years ago," he says in a low voice.

"I left it exactly the way it was, with all your mods and everything. I just cleaned it up and replaced the parts that needed replacing."

Uncle Leo just keeps staring on at the pistol in his talon. "Thank you….I don't even know how I can repay all this, but thank you for everything, friend."

"Don't mention it, _Captain Daelon_," he gives Uncle Leo a playful jab on his shoulder. "Come on, I'll give you the rundown on all this gear I've stockpiled for you."

So, from what Krysarae's told us, we apparently have five pistols, two shotguns, three assault rifles and even a sniper rifle thrown in for good measure, on our hands. All of which comes with a motley of weapon mods and their respective ownership permits. Holy crap, we're going to have a friggin' armory on board our ship. Now that would be sweet. It'll at least give those guys chasing me some food for thought before they decide to come after me again.

"Well, that's all there is to it. Whenever you're all done with these weapons," Krysarae eyes Ralak who's roughly handling the brand new guns, "just place them back into the crates and I'll have them brought over to your ship."

"Goddess, are you sure these are all necessary, Mr. Leo? It seems a little bit…excessive," Ranae says, a little unsure of all this amount of heat that we're packing.

"Better to be safe than sorry, Ranae. These people aren't kidding around when they went after us," Uncle Leo replies.

I take my eyes off from peering down the sights of the assault rifle I'm holding and push a button where the stock, handle and barrel fold into the rifle's body, essentially reducing it to half its original size. I store the collapsed weapon into its respective box and I see that the rest are doing the same. I'll bet they've already decided on which of their new toys will be their favorite. I've yet to decide though since I've not gotten the chance to actually shoot any of them yet. I look over at Nazreil who's literally dancing on his feet as he stores the guns away. For some reason, he's an even bigger gun nut than I am and this little excursion must already have him beaming like an idiot underneath that visor of his.

"Once again, thanks for everything, Krysarae. All this mustn't come cheap. I'll find a way to repay it all to you one day, I promise," Uncle Leo shakes the other turian's talons as we turn to leave.

"Forget about it, Leonus. I just hope that all this gear will help you out in whatever it is that you've gotten yourself into this time," Krysarae jovially replies.

"You have no idea," Uncle Leo smirks. "Take care now, and I hope we see each other soon."

"Likewise."

All five of us exit the store into the hustle and bustle of the Ward, feeling a little bit more secure now with the reassuring presence of that many guns on board the Vanguard. I guess it's for the best, seeing as how those guys tracking me down are relentless in their pursuit. Who knows where they might hit us next; for all I know, they could already be waiting for us in Noveria. And if they are…well, we'll be ready for them too.

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter down, and plenty more of them to go before I'll be able to conclude Mass Effect: Remnants. As we get into the events of Mass Effect, expect to see more Commander Shepard in the near future too.**

**Once again, thanks for reading this chapter and I hoped everyone enjoyed it. Now that the school year is starting for me, I'm going to have a lot less time to work on this fic so the updates aren't going to be regularly scheduled on a weekly basis anymore (not that it originally was anyways, lol) **

**So, peace out and I'll see you guys again soon, I hope! **


	20. Back on Track

**A/ N: Holy crap. I've really underestimated just how busy I was going to be for classes this semester! For every single homework assignment I turn in, two more appear. I never asked for this. Thank God I have this fic to work on – it's probably the only thing that's going to be keeping me sane as I try to make it through another tough semester as an engineering major. **

**My only complaint is that I don't have the time to work on this fic often enough. And that pains me. And my readers too. So I really apologize for the super long delay in getting the chapters up. Like, several months late in getting this one up. Stupid engineering homework and their effects on sucking up my inspiration and imagination dry. **

**Anyways, we're back on track now and that's all that matters. Just a short recap for those still following Nate's escapades - Ralak's just joined the gang as Nate's journey brings the entire gang to Noveria. **

**Once again, the wonderful Mass Effect universe is copyright of Bioware, and I own nothing therein but my OCs. Sit back, relax and enjoy!**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 19 – Back on Track 

Muted outlines of an unfamiliar room swim in his vision. Unintelligible voices float somewhere in the distance. The weight of the waking world presses down on his limbs. Wilkins finally stirs in his bed, struggling to keep his eyes open as the effects of the anesthesia tugs away at his eyelids. Sensation starts returning to his body and with it, so does the pain. He tries to move but none of his limbs would cooperate.

"What the – " he groans, wincing.

He now realizes the extent of his injuries. He's covered from head-to-toe in scabs of minor wounds that have already healed over. However, his attention's focused on his torso where some extensive surgery must have been done, judging by the rolls of bandages wrapped around it. A weird feeling around the surgical area also implied that something was amiss. His torso felt cold from the inside, and there was a noticeable lack of a visceral sensation within it.

Wilkins groans in pain and collapses back onto his bed, trying not to aggravate his injuries. _Just where the hell am I?_

He closes his eyes, and wracks his brain to recall his last few moments of consciousness.

The memories come flooding back in fragmented bits and pieces. The encounter with Saren on Eden Prime, the ease with which the Spectre overpowered him – the one-sided confrontation was almost laughable. However, the detail that stood out most was the Spectre's decision to spare his life. This deeply unsettled him. What did the Spectre want with him? One minute Saren's ready to put a bullet into his skull, and the next, the turian leaves some cryptic remark about how he's still of use to him.

Don't tell me he's also after the kid? But it made no sense at all to Wilkins; why the hell would he go to all that trouble destroying an entire colony just to get him? Then, it clicks. Wilkins realizes that it's the beacon that Saren has his eyes on. But he remembers that the kid's on Eden Prime for it too. What could that possibly mean?

"Shit…." He winces.

Any further train of thought that Wilkins tries to muster finally succumbs to the unbearable pain that's radiating from his torso. His eyes glance over the room, looking for any signs of painkillers that can help quell the pain. There's no one but him in what looks to be a hospital room. Everything is white, orderly and sterile.

Wilkin curses under his breath. He hated being vulnerable and helpless. He grits his teeth as he makes a move to sit upright. Seconds of sheer agony later, Wilkins is sitting upright in bed, beads of cold sweat clinging onto his skin. The life monitors that he's hooked to beep irregularly, a jarring noise that Wilkins finds more annoying than a cause for concern. He still had a job to do, and God knows just how many days he's lost lying comatose in bed.

Just as he's about to swing his legs over the bed, the door bursts open. In walks a male human and salarian. Behind the two is a familiar face – his personal assistant from headquarters. Wearing her blonde hair in her usual ponytail and attired in her familiar dress suits, Tara walks in with a data pad tucked under her arms.

"Mr. Briggs, sir, I strongly advise you against getting out of bed," the salarian frowns at him as he pushes him back into bed. Wilkins tries protesting but he's weaker than he thought as the salarian effortlessly forces him to lie down.

"Just listen to him, you're in no condition to be going anywhere," the human nurse chimes in as he inspects the read-out on one of the life monitors. He then keys in several commands on the machine. "I'm just going to give you another shot of medigel to help with the pain and to patch up any stitches that you might have split open."

In an instant, Wilkins finds relief as the warm sensation of the medigel kicks into effect.

"There you go," the human male turns to Tara, "His condition's stable for now but just let us know if you need anything, m'am."

"Thanks for the help," Tara responds. Both nurses nod and leave the room, shutting the door behind them. She acknowledges Wilkins with a curt nod, "Sir."

Despite the haze of narcotics fogging up his mind, Wilkins makes a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand. "Bring me up to speed ASAP. And what's the status on our target?" he asks, getting straight to the point.

His words take her slightly off guard. She clears her throat. "You're currently admitted in the Illyria Memorial Hospital on Elysium. As for the target, he's currently on the Citadel and our informant has told us that the target is setting a course for Noveria in the Horsehead Nebula

"What informant?"

"Oh, one of our operatives managed to make contact with the krogan that's currently travelling with the target," Tara powers on the datapad and locates the appropriate dossier. "Background checks show that the krogan in question is Jorgal Ralak. He's your typical krogan: leaving his clan behind on Tuchanka in favor of mercenary work out in the galaxy. Unsurprisingly, his last known affiliation was with the Blue Suns on Omega and our records indicate that he's been on Omega ever since."

"Interesting. And just who might this field operative be?"

"It's Operative Tobias, sir. He's offered monetary compensation in exchange for the krogan's cooperation."

Wilkins chuckles on the inside._ So the new guy proved himself to be of use after all_.

"Any other developments I should be made aware of?"

"Sir, uh…" there's hesitation in her voice. Years of experience have conditioned Wilkins to expect that it's anything but good news. "There's also been an incident regarding Operative Tobias."

"Well, what is it?"

"Operative Tobias bypassed standard operating protocols and issued an unauthorized field operation in an attempt to capture the target on the Citadel," she pauses a moment before continuing, "The operation was a failure and there were…heavy casualties."

Her words hang tensely in the air. Tara casts a wary glance at Wilkins as silence fills the air. "Remind me to have a word with Operative Tobias as soon as I get out of here, Tara" he says icily.

His outward demeanor remains placid but Wilkins seethes with anger on the inside. Professionalism takes utmost precedence in his line of work and he expects those working under him to conduct themselves in a similar manner. After all, his services didn't get to where they were without adhering to a strict code of conduct. Those who show such blatant disregard of established protocols and rules in his absence need to be dealt with severely. With so much at stake in capturing the target, Wilkins can't tolerate any room for error.

"Yes, sir," comes Tara's terse reply.

"Good," Wilkins leans his head back into the pillow. "Now, how soon can I be discharged? Every minute I waste here is another minute the trail goes cold."

"We're working on it right now but with all due respect sir, I suggest taking it easy for the next couple of days," she says as she thumbs through the datapad. "Your men found you barely alive down in Eden Prime before they had to rush you here to undergo life-saving surgery."

"How badly was I hurt?"

There's another short pause. He looks to see Tara biting on her lower lip as she flips through a medical report on the datapad. "You were in really bad shape, sir. Reports indicate a collapsed lung, a ruptured spleen, heavy internal bleeding, broken ribs, cerebral hemorrhage and the list just goes on. It's a miracle that you're still alive, sir."

He wasn't surprised. Saren really did a number on him, after all. "What about the surgical procedures?"

Tara frowns ever so slightly as she continues scanning the medical report. "Most of the internal damage were irreparable, sir. Doctors had to extensively graft cybernetic implants to replace or assist the functions of damaged organs."

That would explain the discomfort he felt when waking up. At the very least, the implants interfaced seamlessly with his physiology without any complications. However, such extensive surgery also dictated a prolonged recovery period. And that would prove troublesome for both him and the Shadow Broker who would no doubt like to check up on his progress.

"I don't have that kind of time to idle away, Tara. I'll leave you to take care of it. The sooner, the better," Wilkins orders.

"Not to question your judgment of late sir, but I wouldn't recommend that. You're in no condition to even be moving around," she replies firmly.

"You do as you're told, Tara. And that's an order!" he snaps, sitting bolt upright. Another wave of pain sweeps over him that sends him collapsing back onto the bed.

"Y-yes, sir," comes her submissive reply. "…If there's nothing else, I'll be taking my leave now, sir."

Wilkins just grunts and weakly waves her away. He closes his eyes and lets out a deep sigh as soon as he hears the door shutting behind her. The pain was just what he needed to clear his head and get his thoughts back into order. Just what was wrong with him? That outburst was uncharacteristic of him. And as much as it pains Wilkins to admit it, Tara's right – in hindsight, his recent actions have been questionable. Going into a hot zone in Eden Prime without backup and now this?

In his drug-induced haze, his consciousness slowly starts slipping away until he finds it impossible to even think of anything but sleep. Well, the least he can do is get the rest that both Tara and the medical officials advised. After all, he's not going to be of any use out in the field to apprehend the target in this condition.

_Just one more day and then I'm out of here._ Wilkins manages that last bubble of thought before the sensation of sleep takes over.

* * *

"Now, I just want to make myself clear again, these are not what all those video games you've been playing make them out to be," Uncle Leo drones on for the umpteenth time. He holds one of the unloaded pistols and fixes me with a serious look before continuing, "These things are not toys, Nate. When you're holding a gun in your hand, you're literally holding someone else's life in your hands. You need to understand that that kind of power is not something to be taken lightly. Are we clear on this?"

I nod distractedly, digging down to my last strands of attention at this drawn-out lecture of firearm safety and responsibility. It's hard to concentrate on anything at all when all I can think about is meeting Dad again. "Yeah, you've made yourself crystal clear."

Nevertheless, Uncle Leo does have a point though: shooting a gun in real life and in video games are two completely different things. The biggest differences between the two are the consequences that result from pulling that trigger. People don't get to respawn in the real world.

"And the same goes for all the other guns we have on board. Nobody touches them until absolutely necessary. And that goes without saying for you too, krogan," Uncle Leo eyes Ralak from across the kitchen warily.

"Whatever you say, turian. You're probably too late in giving me that whole spiel about safety and responsibility though," the krogan chuckles darkly from where he's splayed out on the living room couch.

Turning his attention back to me, Uncle Leo pops in the ammo block for the gun and hands it over to me. "Here you go, just make sure the safety's on. You don't want to be shooting yourself in the foot now, do you?"

"I won't, I'll make sure of it," I say indifferently as I take the pistol from Uncle Leo and collapse it into its more compact form. I slide it into the holster on my hip.

"You okay there, Nate?" he asks, no doubt noticing my wistful demeanor ever since we left the Citadel.

"Mr. Leonus, I think we're approaching our destination. We've got incoming hails from Noveria ground control," Nazreil pops his head out of the cockpit.

Uncle Leo puts the rifle he's servicing back onto the table. "Alright, I'll take it from here. Thanks for keeping an eye-out for the autopilot, Nazreil." As soon as he leaves, my mind drifts back to picturing how our reunion with Dad will go.

"No problem." The quarian shuffles out of the cockpit and makes his way over to me as Uncle Leo gets up to head into the cockpit.

He slumps into the seat that Uncle Leo was sitting in and picks up the rifle. "Will you be alright wearing just that?" Nazreil gestures at my clothes.

Nazreil's question snaps me out of my reverie. "What?" I ask, puzzled.

"I'm not sure about human physiology but can your body handle the cold with such little external protection? Temperatures in Noveria are below sub-freezing after all."

"Oh? I-I didn't know that," I say, looking down at myself. "I think I'll freeze to death if I went outside in just this." A plain shirt and a pair of regular pants don't exactly make for effective thermal-insulating gear. "What about you? Won't you get cold?" I direct the question back at him.

"My suit has an onboard environmental regulator which helps keep my body temperatures at optimum levels. So I don't need to worry too much about extreme fluctuations in temperatures," Nazreil says as he assembles the barrel of the rifle into place.

"Wow, that's pretty convenient."

"Not really," he replies without taking his eyes off the gun.

I turn around in my chair towards Ralak. "What about you, Ralak? Won't you be afraid of the cold?"

He scoffs. "The cold's got nothing on what we have back on Tuchanka."

"Okay…..if you say so," I shrug, clueless as to what Ralak even meant. I return my attention to the weapon mods and parts that litter the kitchen table. Most of them are missing as Nazreil's deftly assembling the mods into their respective firearms.

"Woah, you really seem to know a lot about guns," I say, impressed at the quarian's technical expertise.

"Yeah….well, I guess it comes from growing up on a ship that serves as the Flotilla's equivalent of an armory."

Nazreil's just about finishing up installing the mods for the last gun when Uncle Leo calls out from the cockpit. "We're here, boys. You might want to bundle up because it's going to be real cold outside."

I head over to the viewport and gaze outside. The entire landscape below is blanketed in white, save for a few specks of grey which turn out to be mountain ridges peeking out from under the snow. There's nothing for miles around the desolate and harsh landscape. With snowflakes falling softly across the entire vista, the view outside seems so…still. As the Vanguard descends in altitude, I can make out the faint outlines of roads carved into the snow. Tracing the roads' path leads me to a nexus of structures built into the mountainside which we are fast approaching.

"Woah!" I exclaim when Ranae appears next to me out of nowhere.

"Here, you might want to put these on," she says indifferently as she shoves a bundle of winter clothing into my hands before heading into the cockpit. She's already attired in thermal gear as she takes her seat next to Uncle Leo.

"Thanks, I guess?"

I unfold and inspect the clothing – thin fabrics lined with heat-regulating nodes. It's no different from what I'm used to wearing during the winter months back on Earth. And judging from how its design isn't as flamboyantly painful on the eyes, I'm guessing Uncle Leo didn't pick this one out for me.

Thank god.

* * *

We dock in an indoor hangar and our shore party's anxiously awaiting clearance from the Noverian authorities. Everybody's already huddled around the airlock, all suited up and ready to go. Well, everyone except for Ralak who's staying behind to watch over the ship. Uncle Leo wasn't too keen on leaving the ship unguarded, even if it meant putting someone like Ralak on watch duty. Ralak's not taking the news all too well either.

"What's taking so long?" I ask, pacing restlessly in front of the airlock doors. "We've already been waiting for like, 15 minutes."

"Just be patient, Nate. We'll be able to get out soon enough," Uncle Leo replies.

"Given the fact that Noveria's the galaxy's hub for controversial and top-secret research facilities, I wouldn't be surprised if they took their time with security," Ranae chimes in from where she's leaning against the wall.

Uncle Leo fidgets uncomfortably in his own winter gear. He never did like the cold after all, and I guess the same can be said of all turians. "You got your vest on, Nate?"

"Yeah, been keeping it on me at all times." I unzip my thermal outerwear to show the bulletproof vest underneath.

"Alright, just wanted to make sure," the turian says as he adjusts his pistol's hip holster and the holster for his assault rifle slung over his back. In fact, all of us are carrying small arms of some kind. Nazreil's brought along a shotgun and pistol, Ranae has her assault rifle and pistol while I, the most inexperienced, have only a pistol tucked snugly in my under-arm holster.

Several more minutes go by and I'm just about at my patience's end when a voice comes over the Vanguard's intercom. "Security clearance has been granted, Mr. Daelon. You may now exit the vessel. However, upon undocking, the shore party must consent to further security screenings by Noverian port authorities. Thank you and welcome to Port Hanshan."

"Finally!" I breath a sigh of relief.

"Come on, Nate. Let's go," Nazreil motions to me as we exit the airlock. "I just hope somebody here will at least have a job for me," he muses.

Honestly, I feel kind of conflicted about Nazreil getting a job. On the one hand, I know it's important for his Pilgrimage and all, but I really don't want to lose such an awesome guy like him. Within just a few short weeks, Nazreil's been a better friend to me than the guys I've known in high school back on Earth but I try not to think too much of it. I've got more pressing concerns on my mind right now. "Yeah, good luck with that," I reply in as encouraging a tone as I can manage.

A security party consisting of a human and two turians await us on the docking platform. The leader, a blonde woman in full armor steps forward, "I'm Sergeant Kaira Sterling and my team will be the ones responsible for conducting the security check on your shore party," she says in rather rude manner. "Also, I'll need all of you to relinquish your firearms before stepping any further. It's all part of security protocols here on Port Hanshan."

Uncle Leo hesitates as his talons instinctively rest on his turian pistol. Ranae whispers over to Uncle Leo, "I'd rather we have our weapons at hand, Mr. Leo. Given how those men managed to track us down to the Citadel when we thought we lost them on Eden Prime, I don't want to take any chances." He nods.

"If there's any way possible, we'd like to keep our weapons for self-defense. Given how valuable and sensitive the scope of our investments here are on Noveria, we'd just like to be well-prepared against any unsavory parties seeking to _undermine_ our investments," the turian says to the sergeant.

"Once again, I'm going to have to ask you to either leave your weapons behind or relinquish them to us before setting foot in Port Hanshan," she says sternly. I can see the two turians behind her tightening their grip around their assault rifles. "And rest assured, sir, Elanus Risk Control Services have Port Hanshan well-guarded against any form of corporate espionage."

We all look to Uncle Leo for our next course of action. The situation's getting tense real fast and I don't think I want to get into trouble with these security personnel who're just doing their jobs.

"Fine, we'll comply with your demands, Sergeant," Uncle Leo finally relents. I let out a sigh of relief. After disarming ourselves, Uncle Leo turns to Ranae. "Don't worry; I have a back-up plan. But I'll need you to stay behind," he says in a low voice.

Ranae searches the turian's eyes and nods, taking his word for it. "I'll have my communications channel open on my omni-tool if you need anything," she says. We pile our weapons and respective holsters in Ranae's arm and watch as she heads back towards the Vanguard.

Sergeant Sterling looks on disinterestedly at the asari's departure. "See, now that wasn't so hard, was it? Now don't try anything funny once you're inside," her voice was laced with nothing but thinly-veiled condescension as she dismissively waved us in.

Uncle Leo locks eyes with the Sergeant. "Noverian security standards must have really slipped if they're hiring goons like you," he snarls before brushing past her.

I look back at Sergeant Sterling in disgust as we make our way into the main foyer of Port Hanshan. Her security detail moves further down the hangar, no doubt about to roll out the welcome mat for a ship that's just pulled in.

We step into what must be the main reception lobby. I can see a visitor registration desk on one side of the room. Just glancing around the place, my first impression of Port Hanshan's interior is that it's just as aesthetically cold and barren as its harsh landscape outside. Parts of the wall are hewn out of exposed concrete and the parts that aren't are covered in a drab grey stone motif. Overall, Port Hanshan's interior design lends to the place a very gloomy and corporate feel.

As we step up to the registration desk, I look at the people around me and decide then and there that I'm way out of my element here. Everyone here is either dressed in a suit of some sort that those corporate types on the vids always seem to be wearing and they all seem to be occupied with something one way or another. However, they all seem to be tightly wound-up, from the way they speak in hushed voices or how they keep casting furtive glances around the place. Noveria's definitely not all that it seems on the surface.

"One moment please," the secretary at the desk, an asari, smiles at us as she taps away at her terminal. "Ah, Mr. Daelon. Welcome back to Noveria. What can I do for you today?"

Uncle Leo rests his hands on the desk and leans in close to the secretary. "I don't suppose if there has been any activity recently up in Peak 10?"

She pulls up the database with a few keystrokes on the terminal and scans through it. "Why yes, the facilities have been reactivated a couple of months ago," she replies. Uncle Leo does a small double take. "Would you like for me to arrange for a transport up to the facilities, sir?" the receptionist continues.

"Yes please."

She taps away at the terminal. "Okay, your transportation detail will be waiting for you in Bay 15 in the garage. I'd recommend that you depart for your destination soon, Mr. Daelon. I've arranged for you to be in the last transport out of Port Hanshan before transportation services are discontinued due to an impending blizzard. The transport is scheduled to leave in a couple of hours. You may wish to board it earlier, of course."

"Thanks, I'll be sure to take note of it," Uncle Leo courteously replies.

"You're more than welcome. Have a nice day!"

Uncle Leo leads the way out of the reception lobby and we take an elevator up into the main plaza of Port Hanshan. We step into one huge open expanse of a foyer that looks like it's been chiseled into the side of the mountain. The entirety of the left side of the room is taken up by rows of giant glass windows that overlook the snowbound vista outside. Like the lobby before, the foyer is decked out in a similar stone motif.

"Can't believe I'm finally back," Uncle Leo muses. "Spirits, this place looks exactly the same."

I step forward to a nearby balcony and look into the plaza below. "So….this is ground zero for where it all started, huh?"

Nazreil shuffles uncomfortably on his feet as he takes stock of his new surroundings. "I…uh, Mr. Leo, can I excuse myself to ask around to see if anybody here has work for me?" he asks.

I can see hesitation scrawled all over the turian's features as he fixes a concerned look at Nazreil. "Look Nazreil, I…uh…I'm not sure if you know how Noveria works but I doubt if you'll be able to find anyone willing to offer you work here."

"Why's that?"

Uncle Leo glances at the peopling milling about the plaza. "….Noveria's a place brimming with secrets and some investors go the extra mile to keep it that way. And that means they've got some pretty _stringent _hiring policies in place."

It takes a moment before Nazreil realizes what Uncle Leo's getting at. "Oh…I see. I guess they probably wouldn't take too well to a vagrant then," he says in a downcast voice.

"Well I didn't…I didn't really mean it like that but like it or not, that's how it is on Noveria," Uncle Leo says, all flustered up. "…In any case, stay close and let's get moving. I've got some favors to call in before we head out to Peak 10. The sooner we leave the better. I don't want our plans delayed because of the blizzard."

Yeah, I can say the same of me. Dad's got some serious explaining to do. I turn to follow Uncle Leo across the plaza. We eventually end up in what must look like Port Hanshan's hotel lounge, given the warm and slightly more inviting atmosphere that basks the room. There's even an art display, chunks of rocks accentuated with holographic rings, occupying the center of the room.

Uncle Leo scans around the tables that ring the centerpiece display, looking for someone. He finally spots the person. "Okay, just stay here and wait until I get back. This shouldn't take long…I hope," he says to us before he leaves us to greet a human male. The guy's face immediately lights up as he sees Uncle Leo coming and they both exchange a friendly handshake. From the looks of it, they seem to be old friends.

"Your Uncle sure does know a lot people," Nazreil mutters.

"Yeah, tell me about it. He's got friends all over the galaxy." I fold my arms and glance over at Uncle Leo and his friend. They're really getting into it, their conversation getting more intense as the seconds go by. Eventually, the guy throws his arms up in exasperation and they turn to leave the hotel lounge.

My omni-tool beeps with an incoming message from Uncle Leo. _I'll be back soon. You two stay put. _

"Well then, you heard him. Guess we'll just wait for him to get back," I say to Nazreil. Again, I catch a lot of people in the room throwing Nazreil funny looks. Even the quarian himself seems to be fidgeting at the fact that he's sticking out like some sort of sore thumb. I lead him away towards one corner of the room where there's an empty table. "Come on, might as well find a way to pass the time."

The quarian takes the seat across from me. "Sure, I think I know what could help." He brings up his omni-tool and runs some sort of application on it. Soon enough, a recognizable holographic interface pops out in front of him.

"Code of Honor, should have guessed," I smirk. "Some old scores you want to settle with me?" I immediately boot up the game from my omni-tool as well.

"I guess you can call it that. Nobody on the Flotilla was as good as you are."

"Well then, bring it on, Naz. I'll show you how it's done," I grin cockily.

"I've been practicing so I won't go as easy on you as last time," he replies coolly.

* * *

I gasp a little for air as we finally finish the round. I crack my sore neck and look up at the quarian. The guy doesn't look as though he's broken a sweat at all. But then again, it's hard to tell underneath that almost-opaque visor of his.

"Holy crap. That was a good game. And that grenade toss, where the hell did you even learn to do that?" I ask incredulously.

"Where's the fun in revealing my secrets?" he replies smugly. And for good reason too, he's leading me by a single win out of the seven games we've played.

I stand up and stretch a little, noticing how the lounge's patrons are still shooting us dirty looks. It's not just at Nazreil this time, their eyes are boring down on me too. Guess we might have gone a _little _overboard during our sessions, cursing and shouting at each other. But still, it was a welcome distraction from thinking about Dad all the time. "Best out of 10?" Before we can get started on our next match, I feel a tap on our shoulder and someone clearing their throat.

"I'd hate to interrupt the two of you from having such a fun time but it's time to go," Uncle Leo says amusedly.

"Everything went okay, I assume?" I turn to look at him.

"Nothing that this old turian can't handle. Come on, Ranae's waiting for us at the garage," he beckons.

I don't even want to know what kind of strings that Uncle Leo's pulled this time. It's probably best not to ask. Nazreil and I power our game down and get up to follow Uncle Leo.

A few minutes later and having obtained our clearances from the security officer, we find ourselves in Port Hanshan's main garage. It's a long and spacious hangar where dozens of vehicles are parked in their respective bays denoted by the row of industrial shelves that separate each bay. Further down the garage is a bulky, all-terrain vehicle that must presumably be waiting for us.

"Oh wow, a civilian-class Mako unit!" Nazreil exclaims at the sight of the vehicle.

Ranae's already there by the vehicle, watching the workers load several crates of supplies onto the Mako. As usual, she retains a stoic demeanor but her body language suggests otherwise. "Finally, you're here. Couldn't you two at least move faster next time?" she says to Nazreil and I in a reprimanding tone. Funny, it's not like her to snap at us like that.

"Ok geez, we're here, Ranae. No reason to get mad," I frown in reply.

"Sorry, I just…" she takes a deep breath and rubs her temples. "Never mind, let's just get going before the blizzard hits." She takes off to talk to Uncle Leo who's supervising the workers transporting the crates.

I trade a curious look at Nazreil. "What's up with her?" He only shrugs in response before Uncle Leo approaches the two of us.

"We should be leaving now while we still can. Our transport personnel says that this is the last trip that he can make out of here and back before the weather turns ugly," he trails off.

I search Uncle Leo's features for what he's trying to say. I cock my eyebrows at him. "And…?"

"Which means we'll probably be stuck up there in Peak 10 until after the blizzard subsides," he continues. I can't quite place it but there seems to be some sort of hesitation and melancholy mirrored in his eyes. Guess I'm not the only one around here who's anxious about seeing Dad again.

"Everything's all loaded up. We're set to go whenever you are, Mr. Daelon!" our salarian driver calls out from the front of the vehicle.

"Alright, let's go. All aboard!" Uncle Leo awkwardly waves us on board in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.

All four of us clamber into the vehicle and strap ourselves in. The cramped interior doesn't exactly make for the most comfortable or luxurious of travel arrangements but we're definitely well protected from the elements in here. The Mako's engines roar to life and we're off. The heavy steel shutters of the garage doors retract to let us through and instantly, the uninviting stone-motifs of Port Hanshan are transformed into a world where every inch of it is covered in white.

Yet, despite the serene beauty of the vista outside, an uneasy silence permeates the hull of the Mako. I look out the vehicle's viewport and see signs of inclement weather brewing on the edge of the horizon. With what we've been through so far, I just can't help but take it as a bad omen of things to come.

I hope I'm wrong.

* * *

**A/N: 'Bout damn time I finally got this chapter up! Well, I don't have much to say about this chapter apart from the fact that I'm really sorry that it took me this long to update this fic. **

**Anyways, hope you readers enjoy and if you feel like it, leave a comment or two. Constructive criticisms are always appreciated! **

**Now, with this chapter out of the way, it's time to worry about my impending finals. I'll see ya around until the next update! **


	21. Family Reunion

**A/ N: And I'm back with what is hopefully a smaller delay in between updates. Been wanting to get some writing done over the holidays but travel plans got the better of me. And even when I'm not travelling, I'm spending my time clearing up the craploads of unfinished games that's sitting on my shelf. **

**Honestly, winter breaks aren't long enough for me in my opinion. They need to make them longer before I return to yet another crazy and hectic spring semester. Anyways, enough with the notes and let's just get straight into the fic ey? **

**Once again, the wonderful Mass Effect universe is copyright of Bioware, and I own nothing within but my OCs. So sit back, relax and enjoy!**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 20 – Family Reunion

_Damn, it's cold out here_. I think to myself as I stretch and straighten my back the moment I exit the Mako. The cramped interior definitely did not make for the most comfortable of journeys. Uncle Leo and Nazreil emerge from the vehicle shortly after I do while Ranae is already outside helping the Noverian workers unload the supply crates. I look around and note that we're standing in some kind of indoor hangar. A thick set of double doors behind me must lead further into the facility.

"Here, you could use a hand," I say, picking up one end of a supply crate which Ranae's struggling with.

"Thanks," comes her terse reply.

The workers are clearly in a rush to get back to Port Hanshan as they hurriedly unload the vehicle. No less than five minutes later, they're already rolling out the door. "Unfortunately, we'll be unable to arrange for pick up until after the blizzard's blown over. So I suggest staying put in these facilities to wait out the storm. Have a pleasant day," the salarian driver informs us before they leave.

"Well, that gives us plenty of time to have our questions answered," Uncle Leo remarks as he rummages through the contents of the crates and produces our firearms.

"Wait, how'd you get these through security?" I holster my pistol and cock a questioning eyebrow at the turian.

"It's a long story but I'll just say that it pays to have old friends who owe you a favor," he replies with a toothy grin. "Now let's get the rest of the supplies inside before we freeze to death."

It's a lot warmer on the inside once we're past the double doors which open up to what looks to be like a guest reception area. Whoever built this research facility clearly went for a utilitarian and no-frills approach. Apart from the necessary furnishings, there's nothing in the way of interior décor. However, that's not what's giving me a bad vibe about the place – it's the fact that the whole place just looks so pristine and untouched, as if nobody's even been in here.

"You sure Dad's here?" I ask, glancing around the empty room.

"Yeah, looks like nobody's even been here in a while," Nazreil chimes in.

I strain to listen for any signs of life within the facility. Nothing. I swear I can even hear a pin drop in this silence.

Ranae on the other hand, clearly disagrees. She already has her rifle drawn. "Stay sharp, I think we're being watched."

"What? There's no one even in here," I say.

Uncle Leo looks around warily and slowly pulls out his pistol. "Ranae's right, we're not alone in here. Everyone, stay close. Nate, you especially," he points to me.

Okay, now I'm really starting to get freaked out. I draw my pistol in response, feeling the reassuring weight of the weapon in my hands. We huddle close to one another and start sweeping our surroundings for any signs of hostiles.

"I still don't see anyone!" Ranae shushes me up as she stares intently down the sights of her rifle in search of our unknown enemy.

"There you are!" she perks up and swings her rifle behind us. There's nothing in front of her at first but then I see it. In a split second, the air in front of her starts to distort much like a failing holographic display and a figure clad in black armor materializes into being.

Ranae exclaims in surprise as the figure knocks her rifle away, sending a stray burst of rounds peppering into the wall. The sound is deafening in such close quarters. My body doesn't even have time to register surprise as I instinctively bring my pistol to bear on this new target. "Shit! I can't get a clear shot! That thing's moving too fast!"

The figure makes a beeline for Uncle Leo next and the turian barely has enough time to react. He swings outward with his pistol but the figure lithely dodges the blow and weaves around him. Uncle Leo returns with a backhand but misses and the figure seizes the opportunity to pull him into a chokehold. Fortunately, he sees it coming and manages to break its hold.

"Mr. Leo, get down!" Ranae orders as she flares up her biotics. Uncle Leo drops to the ground and Ranae manages to suspend the figure in a biotic lift before throwing it against the far wall. The figure audibly gasps in a feminine voice as the wind is knocked out of her. I turn to Uncle Leo and then back to the female figure to discover she's gone again.

"Where'd she go?!" I frantically yell out.

"She's got some sort of cloaking suit on, so watch out! She could be anywhere!" Nazreil yells out in warning.

"No shit!"

"Get back into formation everyone!" Uncle Leo breathlessly calls out as he scrambles to his feet. We're scattered all across the room after the unknown woman wreaked havoc on our ranks.

I can hear blood pounding in my ears as I frantically search every nook and cranny of the room looking for our assailant. I still don't see her. Then, as if by some twisted turn of events, I feel a foreign presence creeping up on me. Cold fear trickles down my spine. I don't even have time to open fire as I whip around to deliver a fierce low kick at our adversary. She swats it away and I follow it up with another high kick. No dice. She just dodges the kick and instantly disappears from my sight. Before I even realize what's going on, I feel my gun-toting arm being wrenched back and the weapon being disarmed. In an instant, I find myself in a chokehold with the barrel of my own gun being pressed against my temples.

"Drop your weapons, all of you," the female figure orders from behind me. Everyone still has their weapons trained on her. "I'm only going to say it again, drop them or else," she presses the barrel tightly against my temple to illustrate her point. Motioning to Ranae, "And that includes you, missy. I don't want to see any biotics if you don't want the boy here to get hurt."

Uncle Leo finally wavers and tosses his pistol to the floor. Everybody else follows suite. "Okay, we did as you asked. Nobody needs to get hurt here. Just…tell us what you want," he raises his talons in surrender.

"Now, you tell me who the hell you people are and how you managed to get in here. Whatever it is you're looking for, you're in the wrong place, assholes," she demands.

"I could ask you the same thing," Uncle Leo growls back at her.

"Hey, I'm asking the questions here, remember?!"

I wince as I feel the cold steel of the barrel digging into my skin.

"Alright, I'm just here to look for an old friend of mine and that's it. I've reason to believe that he's been here recently,' he says through gritted teeth.

"And who is this person?"

"A Nicholas Sunderland."

She draws a sharp breath and levels the pistol against Uncle Leo. "Who the fuck sent you?"

"Lynn, stop!"

We all turn our attention to a new arrival in the room. A bespectacled, middle-aged man dressed in plain clothes stands atop the second floor balcony that overlooks the reception room below. "And for the love of God, put that gun away right now!" He looks flustered as he storms down the stairs towards us.

"What the hell are you doing down here? Get back in there where it's safe!"

"Do as I say, Lynn!"

"Not a chance. We still don't know what they want with you!" Lynn replies, her attention still on Uncle Leo.

"Stand down right now! I know for sure that these people aren't here to kill us!" he strides up between Lynn and Uncle Leo, beckoning her to lower the gun. Lynn finally relents and she releases me from her hold. She shoves me forward and I stumble clumsily into Uncle Leo's arms.

"Leonus, is that really you?" The man looks over the turian with wistful eyes. "It is you, isn't it?"

There's disbelief etched in Uncle Leo's eyes at first. Then, they widen with joy as he takes in the presence of the man. "By the spirits, Nicholas!"

The two pull each other into a bone-crushing hug. "Spirits, you look like you haven't changed one bit, Nick!"

"And you, my friend, look like shit."

They both break out in a fit of jovial laughter. Boy, Uncle Leo sure does look happy to see him. The rest of us look on awkwardly as we wait for the two to finish. Lynn clears her throat to remind them of the rest of us.

"Right, that reminds me. Just how did you know to find me here, Leonus?"

Uncle Leo turns to look at me, and so does the man. I finally get a good look at his features. Apart from several small streaks of grey, the man has black hair that's neatly cropped and also those distinctive onyx-black eyes. Old age slightly mars his appearance but apart from that, I'm a splitting image of him.

"Dad?"

He turns to Uncle Leo and then back at me, his expression falling. The light-heartedness of their reunion dies away almost immediately.

"I…I guess you're here for answers, aren't you?"

* * *

Half an hour later, we're all huddled around the dining room table in the living quarters of Peak 10. Through the thick glass windows, I can see the blizzard outside picking up in speed and intensity. Four of us shuffle uncomfortably on one side of the table as we warily eye Lynn. She's still clad in her armor but has her helmet off. I notice that she bears some resemblance to Dad with the exception of her hazel eyes and brunette hair which she wears back in a short ponytail.

"First off, I think you guys deserve an apology regarding the incident back there," Dad starts us off. "We didn't know you were coming."

"Excuse me? Aren't you forgetting someone?" Lynn crosses her arms.

"Oh, this is Lynn by the way and well, you can say she's here to keep the two of us safe." She gives a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Huh, found someone to replace my old job I see," Uncle Leo pipes up half-jokingly.

"And I can see that we basically have the old gang back together except for…" Dad trails off as his attention comes to rest on Nazreil.

"Nazreil Vaan nar Atwell, sir," the quarian responds.

"Ah well, it's nice to meet you Nazreil. Nicholas Sunderland and I do apologize for the misunderstanding earlier on."

"Oh, it's no problem. I'm just glad that nobody got hurt," Nazreil nods.

"And Aurania?" Dad turns to Ranae but I can tell he's already knows. The grim silence that greets him is all the answers that he needs. "Oh god, I feared as much…"

My impatience gets the better of me. "I don't mean to be rude but can we just get right to it, Dad? I mean, I've only traveled halfway across the galaxy and had people shooting at me while we were looking for you," I huff from where I'm sitting across from him.

This takes him a little by surprise. "Alright, I understand. Let's hear what's on your mind then."

Just right when I'm about to let my torrent of questions and emotions run free, I catch Uncle Leo giving me a wary look. I take a deep breath and collect myself, making a mental note to not let my emotions get the better of me. "I want to know the truth. I want to know why you created me in the first place. And why there are people out there who are willing to kill just to get to me."

Dad only crosses his arms and lets out a heavy sigh. "There's just so much to say, where do I even start?"

"How about my mother's data backups?" Ranae pipes up, not looking too pleased. "Try explaining that, Mr. Sunderland."

"Oh, about that," Dad pauses, rubbing his temples. "I'm sorry but it just had to be done. If I hadn't intervened, they would have already gotten their hands on the data."

"By 'them', I'm assuming you mean those people after me right?" I ask.

"Precisely. They've been scouting the bank for days, and I figured it was just a matter of time before they got their hands on the backups. So logically, I took it upon myself to remove it for safekeeping. I've got it back there somewhere in the labs if you want it, Ranae," he motions towards the back where the labs must be. "Again, I'm so sorry for doing it without telling you about it."

"Which brings us to another question, Nick. Just who in spirits' name are these people chasing after you? And Nate here as well?" Uncle Leo leans forward in his seat, locking eyes with Dad.

He sighs. "They're with the Shadow Broker."

The turian's jaw drops. "Spirits, Nick. What have you gotten yourself into? The Shadow Broker himself of all people?"

"I know, I know. Against my better judgment, I went to the Broker for help. But I didn't have much of a choice," Dad replies exasperatedly. "You knew how it was during the research, Leonus. We were on the verge of a breakthrough but funds were running out. What choice did I have? Our research didn't exactly abide with the majority of galactic conventions so that ruled out a lot of our investors."

"Alright, just calm down, Nick. I didn't mean to question your judgment. Whatever you did, I know you did it in the best of all our interests," the turian says reassuringly. "But even so, we never had any trouble with them up to about 13 years ago up until the point when you had to leave. What happened, Nick?"

Dad closes his eyes as he recalls those memories from all those years ago. "I finally figured out what the Broker's true motives were for funding our research. The Broker planned on taking Nate away so that he can subject him to his own tests and research." Just hearing those words sends a shiver down my spine. Having had the pleasure of _meeting_ the kind of people that the Broker employs, who knows what kind of plans the Broker has in store for me. Dad continues, "But that's not the worst of it. In doing so, I uncovered something that's even bigger than the threat of the Broker himself. Hell, if I'm right, the entire galaxy could even be at stake here." He turns to me. "You weren't just a scientific breakthrough anymore; you're now a vital clue in preventing total galactic annihilation."

"What…what do you mean?" I swallow a lump in my throat, uncomfortable with the foreboding turn that this conversation is taking.

Dad makes eye contact with me, his expression grave. "The Protheans didn't go extinct. They were wiped out by some sort of large-scale galactic genocide." He pauses a moment as everyone in the room holds their breath for what's about to come next. "And it's going to happen again with us."

I hear anxious laughter coming from Uncle Leo. "Nick, stop messing with us. Come on, a full-scale galactic annihilation? Are you even listening to yourself? Now tell us what you really found."

Dad shakes his head. "I'm not making any of this up. Look, if someone like the Broker's buying into it, I don't think this threat's any laughing matter."

An unsettling silence falls over the entire room as his words sink in.

"Keelah…"

"Which explains why the Shadow Broker wants Nate so bad. Nate's the key to figuring out what happened to the Protheans. And if what Mr. Sunderland said is true, then the Broker must be planning to use that information to prevent it," Ranae remarks as all of the puzzle pieces fall into place.

"Precisely. You're as sharp as ever, Ranae," Dad smiles approvingly.

"So that's what you meant when you said I was the last remnant of hope for the Prothean and the galaxy," I mutter. "But that still doesn't explain why he wants me so bad. If the galaxy's really at stake here, then we all have a common goal to work towards, don't we? Why can't we all just work together to stop this apocalypse from happening?"

Lynn scoffs at my suggestion. "Listen kid, you obviously don't know who the Shadow Broker is. The Broker trades in information and in his line of work, information _is_ power. There's no way he's going to share this with the rest of the galaxy; it'll only go the highest bidder, if at all." She puts her feet on the table and leans back in her chair. "Besides, you're a huge investment on his part and the Broker doesn't like his investments being unaccounted for."

Realization strikes me at last as I flash back to that fateful day. "So that's why you had to leave us all those years ago. To throw the Broker's men off our trail..."

"If the Broker ever got his hands on you, that information which you now hold within you will be lost to the light of day," Dad replies with a pained expression. "I never did want to leave you, Leonus or Aurania. Trust me, I never did because it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, son. But I had no choice and no time to explain everything to you." I can see tears tugging at the edges of his eyelids. So is mine.

"B-but still…..all those years without you; the constant moving, the bullying at schools, I-I just…" I trail off, unable to summon the words I want to say. There's nothing left in me to even want to make the effort to continue this conversation. I feel like I've just been hit by a huge wall of water and I'm now drowning in the murky and confusing mess of emotions inside my head. Right now, all I can think of is retreating somewhere quiet to sort this all out. "I think I've heard all I need to hear," I say as I stand up to make my way out of the dining hall. Thankfully, nobody comes after me.

I wasn't so much as walking as unconsciously dragging my feet in search of a lone room in the facility complex. When I finally settle on plopping down on one of the beds in an unoccupied bedroom, I just close my eyes and let the earlier conversation replay over and over again in my head. I'm not sure just how long I'm in the room but I suddenly feel someone else in there with me.

"Hey."

I jolt awake to find the owner of the voice. It's hard to see in the darkened room but I manage to make out a silhouette sitting on the bed opposite mine. "I don't think we've been properly introduced, have we? Or if you knew that your own aunt come close to putting a bullet through your head," Lynn lets out a small chuckle.

"Wait, what?" I shoot upwards into a sitting position, staring straight ahead at Lynn.

"Your Dad didn't mention me at all?" She rolls her eyes. "Pssh, typical Nick."

"Back up a minute, you're my aunt? As in, my dad's sister kinda aunt?"

"Pretty much. Even I just learnt about it a couple of minutes ago back in the dining room."

"And you're not the least bit surprised?" I ask incredulously. Great, this day keeps on getting better and better.

"Trust me, you see plenty of shit when you're with the System Alliance black ops. It takes a whole of a fucking lot to faze me."

"Oh…uh, wow," I scratch the back of my head, "I didn't even know I had an aunt. Thanks for not killing me back there, I guess."

"Don't mention it, Nate. Just don't go wetting your bed over it. It's not that _traumatizing _of an experience, was it?" she lets out a jovial laugh and gets on up to slap my back. It hurt. "Anyways, I just wanted to check up on you and whenever you feel like you're up to it, we still got a lot to talk about between your Dad and I." She pauses at the threshold of the door. "Oh, and this goes without mentioning but stay indoors. I'd hate to see you freeze to death outside before I can even get to know my long-lost nephew."

"I will….?"

She closes the door and I can still hear her chuckles fading down the hallway. First I have Dad to deal with and now I discover I have an aunt too? Talk about one giant family reunion. I don't need to deal with all of this right now. I groan out loud and just collapse back into bed.

* * *

The lab space is equipped with state-of-the-art technology which makes for an impressive sight. Sophisticated machineries and equipment lie atop the chrome-lined workbenches and various mounted holographic displays adorn the wall. I catch a faint whiff of lavender as I step into the room. Ranae and Dad are at the far end of the room where their attention is focused on a large display screen. I clear my throat and they turn around to look at me.

"Oh, it's you. You feeling okay, son?" Dad asks, concern etched on his face.

"Yeah, I think I am," I reply. I genuinely do feel better, having had time to grasp the situation after a few good hours of thinking it through.

Ranae waves me over. "Nate, come over here. We could use your help in helping decipher some of my mother's and Mr. Sunderland's research." I oblige and make my way across to them. She deftly sifts through piles after piles of data on the screen. "So we know about this whole galactic annihilation event and that it's occurring sometime within our cycle. But what else? There's nothing concrete that points to who's responsible for this or how it's even going to happen," she says in frustration.

"The Protheans didn't exactly leave much in the way of clues or records to indicate how it happened which only adds to the mystery of this impending galactic apocalypse," Dad rubs his chin in thought.

"I think I know what happened to them," I finally say at last. Both Ranae and Dad turn to me expectantly, clearly frustrated for answers. "These...things called Reapers came and wiped them all out."

"Reapers?" both say in unison. "Is that what you saw when you interacted with the beacon?" Ranae prods on.

"Beacon?" Dad asks quizzically before it hits him. "Good lord, were all of you down in Eden Prime? During the geth attack?" There's a mixture of shock and concern in his voice.

"Yeah, we were. We lost Aurania down there while trying to escape – " I stop myself short, realizing that Ranae's right in front of me. The asari lowers her gaze. _Crap, of all the things to bring up. _I try to change the topic of conversation in a useless attempt at damage control. "But what matters now is that the beacon kind of gave me a clue on what happened to the Protheans. They were wiped out by some sentient, robotic beings that called themselves the Reapers."

"Oh my god. Creatures capable of wiping out the most technologically-advanced race in the galaxy? You're sure about this?"

"Everything points to it. The dreams that I've been having, the visions from the beacon. It's got to be it," I shrug.

I see Dad's attention turning inwards as he ruminates on this revelation. "There's nothing in all of the Prothean data archives that I have which even mentions this. Which only leads me to believe that these…Reapers didn't wish to leave any of their traces for others to find."

"Regardless, Mr. Sunderland, that's still not much information to go off of," Ranae interjects. "Not that I'm doubting you, Nate, but we still don't know what we're up against or when these Reapers are going to show up."

Dad removes his glasses and rubs his eyes. "She's right. Even with what you've told us, we're still groping around in the dark." He sits there staring at the screen when a spark of inspiration leaps into his eyes.

"Feros."

Ranae and I look at Dad confused. "Feros? What's that?" I relay the question that must be on both our minds.

"It's a planet in the Attican Beta clusters where the ruins of a Prothean megalopolis have been discovered," Dad responds. His tone picks up in excitement with each and every word.

"I remember now. Mother's talked about Feros before," Ranae jumps back into our conversation. "But I don't understand. There's absolutely nothing down there; the ruins have been picked clean by looters. You'd think they've found something by now."

"But you're forgetting that we have Nate here. If the beacon resonated to his Prothean physiology, what are the chances that there are some data archives down there sitting dormant, waiting to just be reactivated? I'm sure that Nate here can power those things back on and access them."

I feel slightly annoyed by the mere fact that I'm being treated like a tool in this discussion, useful only when there's an obstacle that needed my unique Prothean-hybrid DNA matrix to overcome. "Dad, I'm not even sure I can do that. What if it needed some security clearance that I don't even have?"

"I know it's a long shot, but we've gotta at least try," he says resolutely. "And besides, it's our only lead right now."

Ranae claps her hands together and nods affirmatively. "It's settled then, we head out for Feros as soon as we can." She gets out of her seat and stretches. "I'll inform Mr. Leo and the rest." Right as she brushes past me, she shoots me a look and motions to Dad. I nod, knowing what I have to do. I hear her footfalls retreating until they disappear completely behind the lab doors….leaving the two of us alone.

I take Ranae's empty seat and just look ahead at the screen. I don't even know what to say to Dad, or even if there's anything to say to the man responsible for the predicament I now find myself in. Normally, a fist in his face would be appropriate but given Dad's circumstances, I don't think I could even blame the guy for leaving us like he did. But that still didn't make up for all those years wondering where the hell he was. Moments of awkward silence pass by.

"You know, I think I kinda understand why you had to do what you did," I start, picking my choice of words carefully.

There's a small pause on Dad's end. "I can only hope that Leonus and you do. What I've had to put you through…it mustn't be easy."

"You know I never asked for this, right? All I ever wanted was to be a normal kid, to have a normal life without some end of the world scenario to worry about. I mean, come on, how can I ever go back to that kind of life now that I've learnt about all this?"

Dad just rubs his temples and breathes out a heavy sigh. "Admittedly, I've made mistakes. Some bigger than others. Hell, I've gone about making up for the mistakes of others, but I've never even thought to stop making mistakes of my own." He sets his spectacles down on the table in front of him. Without them, I can see a man whose past actions have weighed heavily on his conscience over the years. "I thought that this research of mine could finally atone for all that I've done wrong in life. And when it finally succeeded, when you came along, I felt like I've done something right for once. But life's never that simple, is it?"

"I only wished it was. Every single day of my life."

"Well, you know the story from then on out. The Broker comes after all of us, I discover his plans and now the Reapers…god, it's one hell of a mess I've gotten myself into." Another sigh. "But you do the best with the hands you're dealt. You just keep on looking ahead and hope that one day, you finally catch the break that you deserve. Only thing is, I've yet to catch mine and until I do, I'll keep on moving forward until I set things right," Dad turns to me, his words laden with sincerity and wisdom. "My only wish for you is that you'll be able to see the day that I make things right."

I'm slightly taken aback by the brutal honesty of Dad's confession, which only causes my contempt for him to ebb away all the more. "You know I'm still not going to forgive you for what you've done to Uncle Leo and I. And for all the pain and suffering you've put us through."

"I know. Putting you in this position was the most selfish things I've done."

"But you're off to a good start, Dad," I eventually let a grin show on my face. I get up to my feet and start making my way towards the door.

"Son."

I pause in my tracks and look over my shoulder.

"Thanks," Dad says.

"You've still got a long ways to go though, so don't screw it up."

"I'll try."

* * *

**A/N: And with that said, we get an emotionally-charged and plot-progressive chapter out of the way.**

**Well, I really have nothing much to say apart from my usual apologies in getting this chapter up so late and the old usual boring spiel. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I had fun writing it. **

**Until next time, which will hopefully be sooner compared to my past updates, I'll see you guys around! **


	22. Blindsided

**A/ N: Well, I clearly lied about the smaller delays in between updates. And I've only myself to blame. I'd like to promise you that I'm working on this fic a lot more often but I know that empty promises mean nothing. So I'll just let actions speak for me. **

**With that aside, I'd like to welcome back those still faithful to this story of mine and thank you all for still coming back to read and help me improve upon my crappy and amateurish story telling skills. **

**Let's just jump right into it, shall we? Once again, Mass Effect is property of the geniuses at Bioware.**

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 21 – Blindsided

_Why did I even listen to that pyjak-loving, bare-faced turian freak? _I storm restlessly around the confined living space of the ship. I realize that they've only been gone for a couple of hours and already I'm going insane from the sheer boredom of waiting around. The ship's limited confines didn't do any good for me either. Everything in here feels too small and fragile; as expected of a typical luxury starship that humans find so tasteful these days. The oppressive walls and the heavy air pressing down on me only serve to remind me that I'm trapped in here like a stupid animal.

"Sure, Ralak, volunteer yourself to stay behind and look after the ship," I grumble out loud to myself. "Let the turian know you're kind enough to take one for the team. Hah!" I scoff.

The deal looked harmless at first when those human operatives proposed it to me back on Eden Prime. All I had to do is to keep them updated on our current whereabouts and the credits would flow right in. It was a win-win situation until the stunt those assholes pulled on me back at the Citadel. I know they're after the kid – something about retrieving back stolen property – and thanks to my big mouth, they should be landing here on this frozen hell-hole any minute now. Once I see them, I'll be sure to show those backstabbing bastards what happens when you cross Jorgal Ralak. I take a glance outside the starboard viewing port. _It's about damn time. _

Several figures clad in armor and gear reminiscent of the men that ambushed the ship back on the Citadel come into view on the docking bridges. Only three of them are armed but I'm not too worried about the odds. The way they're cradling their guns suggest combat-trained expertise but they're no substitute for centuries' worth of bloody melees and dirty fighting. Bringing up the rear is a blonde man clad in a black trench-coat who I assume must be the head honcho leading this operation. Suddenly, the day just got a whole lot better. If I play my cards right, I'll even get to pay the ringleader a visit and give him a piece of my mind. Upon seeing the kid's ship, the three armed operatives break off from the group and sidle up to the airlock of the Vanguard. There's no doubt in my mind anymore that these are the guys.

I crack my knuckles in anticipation. All that pent-up energy is going to be put into good use after all. _Time to cut loose and show them a little Tuchankan hospitality._

After hacking through the locks, the airlock doors slide open to reveal the three poor bastards.

"You boys just can't get enough of me, can you?" I growl.

I'll never forget the looks on their faces.

* * *

Wilkins always did have a liking for Port Hanshan. The very nature of the place reminds him of his own line of work. The place operates much like he does, where real work is constantly being done from the shadows, away from prying eyes. Now that the matter of the target's starship has been seen to, his team can finally focus on their objective – apprehending the target once and for all.

Having cleared security and once past the entrance doors into the foyer, he strides up to the reception desk alone. He feels a small stab of pain and falters slightly mid-step. For all the good that the cybernetic implants do, Wilkins knows that he's yet to fully recover from his injuries. And yet, here he is, personally leading this field mission to procure the target.

"Yes sir, how may I help you?" the asari receptionist warmly greets him.

"I have business with a turian, a Mr. Leonus Daelon. I have reason to believe that he's here," Wilkins replies in his usual, brisk manner.

"May I see a proper form of identification please, sir?"

Wilkins forwards his falsified credentials on his omni-tool. "Bryce Wilson, Conatix Industries. I'm here to question Mr. Daelon regarding several irregularities in the transaction of our investment funds to some of his research projects."

"One moment please," the asari drops her gaze to the monitor display as she verifies his identity. "Well then, welcome to Port Hanshan, Mr. Bryce. Unfortunately, Mr. Daelon is up in Peak 10 right now and all outbound transport shuttles have been shut down due to the blizzard," she nods apologetically.

"Is there some other way that we could get up there? The matter's urgent, you see."

"I'm sorry sir, but unless you're a representative of the prime benefactor renting the research facilities with a garage pass – of which Conatix Industries is not – and an authorized clearance to access the facilities, we can't risk sending out any transport shuttles right now. Would you like arrangements to be made for accommodations while your team waits for the blizzard to blow over?" she inquires.

Wilkins pauses for a moment to decide on their next course of action. It's a good thing he came prepared to address such a scenario. "Yes, that would be lovely."

"Sure thing," the asari beams. No sooner than a few keystrokes later, the rooms are prepared. "Your rooms will be on the fifth level, Mr. Bryce. We hope you have a pleasant stay."

Wilkins nods his gratitude and signals his team to move out. It's time to move on to the next phase of their plan. They make their way into the main atrium of Port Hanshan towards the vehicle garage. Despite being snowed in, the residents of Port Hanshan looked no worse for wear. The air teemed with lively chatter and people were going about their daily routines undeterred by the blizzard. Good, it would be easier for his team to blend into the crowd and slip into the garage unnoticed.

After taking a few steps, Wilkins can't help but feel as though he's being watched. He shrugs it off, assuring himself that it's just his imagination. There's absolutely way anybody here would know who they really are and what they are here for. He glances around the crowd and nobody seemed to be paying his team any attention. Then, his eyes spot an elderly asari sporting a rather ornate headdress boring down on him from the level above. Years of experience have honed his instincts to let his gaze sweep over her nonchalantly so as not to give his presence within the crowd away. Yet, Wilkins finds himself unwittingly making eye contact with the asari. The two hold each other in their line of sight for what must seem like an eternity for Wilkins before she cryptically smiles and retreats from view.

"Sir? Sir, you okay there?" one of his operatives snap him out of his trance.

"Y-yes, I'm fine, Strousland. No cause for concern," he replies assuredly.

Wilkins knows it's highly unlikely that the asari would know of their team's motives. Yet somehow, her demeanor suggests that she knows something about them that they don't. For all he knows, this operation could already be compromised and that Noverian authorities have already alerted the target of their presence here. It takes Wilkins a sizable amount of effort to put the thought aside as he evaluates the facts. It's unlikely that the krogan would give them away seeing as how they've financially secured his discretion. With the tracking beacon on the Vanguard disabled when the target left Eden Prime, the target has no reason to suspect that Wilkins's men could have tailed him all the way here. Wilkins doubts that even the fiasco that was Operative Tobias's retrieval attempt on the Citadel could have alerted the target that they knew of Noveria as the target's next destination.

With all the facts pointing towards a sound conclusion, Wilkins still can't shake the thought at the back of his head that the asari knows more than she's letting on.

"You know the plan, Strousland. I'm putting you in charge of this phase of the operation until I return. Keep in radio contact," Wilkins orders.

"Sir?"

His operative's confusion is well-justified. Wilkins never lets himself get distracted while he's on the job but somehow, here he is trying to track down this asari for no clear reason. Part of him is convinced that he needed to neutralize her to tie up loose ends but he knows there's more to it than that. "You heard me. Gain access into the garage, secure the vehicles and we'll rendezvous there. I have some…_personal_ matters to attend to."

"Aye, aye sir," Strousland nods and leads the rest of the team off.

Wilkins looks up to the overhead railing where the elderly asari once was and proceeds to climb the stairs to the upper levels of the atrium. Upon reaching the top, he glances around for any sight of her, eventually spotting the folds of her black gown disappearing behind a room at the far end. He cautiously makes his way over to the door. His scans detect only one source of heat signature within the room, confirming that the asari is alone. Wilkins takes a deep breath and steps inside.

"Mr. Wilkins Briggs, what a pleasant surprise," the asari greets him from where she's seated on the lone table inside the room as if already expecting him. Despite her rather questionable attire – a black, low-cut dress gown with an ornate headpiece – the asari still made for an intimidating figure. "Of all the places to be in the galaxy; fancy meeting you here."

Wilkins's eyes widen in surprise. His entire body clenches in trepidation, realizing that he has just played right into her hands. "Have we met before?" he says, at the same time cursing inwardly at his carelessness.

"I can't say that we've crossed paths before but I do believe you've met an associate of mine back on Eden Prime," she shrugs but there was no mistaking her sinister aura.

A trickle of cold fear runs down his spine as he recalls the encounter at the beacon's dig site. He struggles to maintain a calm façade. "You seem to know a lot about me, asari, but I'm afraid I don't even know your name."

"Oh, how rude of me. I'm Matriarch Benezia," she replies, her voice dripping with thinly-veiled condescension. "A pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Briggs."

Wilkins doesn't like the turn that this conversation is taking by the minute. The fact that an all-powerful asari Matriarch who seems to be allied with Saren has taken an interest in him doesn't make for a good omen. Complicating matters further is her knowledge of his real identity that he's worked hard to keep under wraps. "And I believe your associate – Saren Arterius has told you all about me?"

"Oh yes. Why in fact, it would seem that he has plans for you yet."

"Plans? What plans?" Her words are definitely starting to pique his intrigue. He knows there must be a reason that Saren didn't put a bullet in his head back on Eden Prime.

"In due time, Mr. Briggs. It is not in my place to dictate of what you're destined for…at least, not yet," she remarks cryptically.

"Will all due respect, Matriarch, but I'm not overly fond of the mind games that you seem to love," Wilkins says, fast losing patience. "Why did Saren spare me back on Eden Prime? I don't appreciate being used as an unwitting pawn in anybody's schemes – not even a Spectre's. Not when I have other matters to worry about."

"I would advise you to watch your tone. You have no idea of the powers that you're dealing with here," she responds coolly just as two asari commandos march through the door behind Wilkins, blocking his only exit. "Have you ever seen an asari commando unit before, Mr. Briggs? Few are privileged enough to see one in person, much less survive an encounter with one."

Wilkins sizes up his opposition. He's unarmed, but an accomplished hand-to-hand combatant. He could take one on, but they'd sooner rip him to shreds with their biotics if he tried. Which only serves to remind him of the insanity of this little stunt that he's pulling. He decides the best course of action is to just play along. He relaxes his posture as he tries regaining some semblance of composure.

"Good, I'm glad to see a man with reason. Saren chose wisely," she smiles smugly, pleased with her dominance over him. "And don't you worry about our interference with your work, Mr. Briggs. In any case, consider ourselves lending you our aid."

Wilkins can't decide which is more unsettling. The fact that the turian who tried killing him before is now offering help or the fact that he knows of his mission to retrieve the kid. Then again, he catches himself in time to realize that Matriarch Benezia never did explicitly mention his current assignment. There's hope to salvage this situation yet. "What does he expect to gain from helping me?"

"Even I cannot tell you for certain of what Saren has in store for you; I am merely here to point you in the right path. But I can tell you this, Mr. Briggs," she fixes him with an intense gaze, her eyes piercing into his very being. "There are forces out there with powers beyond our mortal comprehension, and you've been deemed worthy enough to be a part of it. A time will come when the old ways of this tiresome galaxy would cease to exist. And you, Mr. Briggs, will have the privilege of bearing witness as the galaxy is born anew – a fate in which you will play a most important role in."

Wilkins returns an incredulous expression at the sheer madness of the Matriarch's delirious words. "Well then, all the best with your endeavors, Matriarch but I wish to have no part in it whatsoever. I think the galaxy's fine just the way it is."

"Doubt me all you wish, but I can sense that your words have already betrayed you, Mr. Briggs. The desire has already taken root in your mind. It will only be a matter of time before you realize it."

The enigma shrouding her words are really starting to grate on Wilkins's nerves. His questions are only answered with more questions. "I've had enough of all this nonsense, Matriarch Benezia. Let's just cut to the chase and tell me what is it that Saren wants from me?"

"I have said all that needs to be said. Our conversation here is over, Mr. Briggs. Now if you'll please leave us be, I have more important things to see to," she says with a tone of finality.

The two asari blocking the doorway stand aside to let him pass. Wilkins debates if he should pursue the matter further but he decides that he's clearly in no position to bargain with the Matriarch. He turns to leave.

"Oh and one last thing, Mr. Briggs. Should you come to your senses, you'll find the answers you seek deep beneath the ruins of Feros."

His omni-tool chimes as it displays a notification of an incoming data packet from the Matriarch. He hesitates a little before he presses the button to initiate the download sequence.

"May our paths cross once more, Mr. Briggs." Her final words leave a haunting echo in his mind as he exits the room. Wilkins exhales deeply, only realizing that he's shuddering slightly from his time with the Matriarch. He still has a job to do and his operatives will no doubt already be waiting on him for further orders.

He buries the ominous encounter with Benezia deep into the recesses of his mind to address later and focuses on the task at hand. He walks at a brisk pace towards the garage and notes the absence of a security detail posted at its entrance. His men must have already secured the vehicle garage and discreetly disposed of any potential resistance. The garage door unlocks for him and he enters the main hangar without a hitch.

Operative Strousland strides up to him. "Sir, the garage has been secured. Video surveillance in the vicinity has already been hacked into and fed a looping cycle. Nobody knows we're even here," he reports.

"And what's the status of Echo Team?"

"Patching you through right now, sir," Strousland says as he links Wilkins's communications feed into Echo Team's.

"Echo Team, give me an update," Wilkins speaks into his earpiece.

"Sir, we've uh…we've run into some complications with the starship's security system. I-it's nothing we can't handle but we'll just need more time to hack into it," comes the reply. "We'll rendezvous with you up at Peak 10."

"Copy that, Operative Olwin. Meet us up there as soon as you're done with your objective. Over and out." Wilkins shuts off the line, completely unaware that only one member of Echo Team remains. And that the afore-mentioned operative is staring down the barrel of a gun wielded by a very pissed-off krogan.

"Alright men! Grab your gear and let's move out! Once again, the mission parameters remain unchanged! Feel free to dispose of his guardians in whatever way you see fit but above all, I want the target _alive_!" Wilkins addresses the rest of his team who are retrieving their equipment and weapons from a crate smuggled into the hangar. He gets a resounding chorus of affirmation.

It doesn't take long for his team – seven of them, including himself at the moment – to climb into two transport shuttles and make their way out into the blizzard. As Wilkins sits in silent contemplation during the journey, he subconsciously muses over Benezia's enigmatic words.

* * *

I lean back against the laboratory countertop from where I'm sitting on the floor and go through the library of information that's displayed on the datapad in my hands. Dad sits in his usual spot in front of the computer terminal as he helps me make sense of some of the data pertaining to my unique Prothean-human hybrid physiology.

"So….I still don't get it. If I'm infused with Prothean DNA, then why do I still look human, and not like some horror freak-show?" I ask, puzzled.

Dad turns to me with an amused expression on his face. "I could go into the specifics but I'll likely bore you out of your mind with the details."

"Then keep it as short as possible. And in plain English, please."

"Basically, what little we know about Protheans seems to suggest that they're a species with advanced haptic sensory capabilities," he explains.

"Advanced haptic sensory capabilities?" I raise an eyebrow. It's clear by now that I haven't inherited the smarts from Dad, if that C- grade in Biology classes is any indication.

He furrows his brow for a moment as he searches for a way to dumb it down further. "Well, to put simply, their minds are directly linked to their sense of touch. Say, when a Prothean touches another sentient being, they're able to see and live out that being's life experiences. All their memories, emotions, higher mental faculties – a Prothean can access all that from just a simple touch."

"Okay, I think I get it now," I say. "Now, back to why I still look like a normal teenage human kid."

"Ah yes. Well, from what little sample of Prothean DNA that we were able to extract from a heavily-damaged stasis pod that we covertly uncovered years ago from Eden Prime, we manage to isolate the gene sequences that pertained only to their haptic sensory mechanisms. After a lot of work, we successfully transplanted those gene sequences into a human DNA matrix – mine actually – randomized several genetic alleles and then….well, here you are."

I try to connect the dots. "So what you're saying is that I may physically look human on the outside since you didn't mess with those particular genetic codes but up in my brain," I tap my head for emphasis, "that's where those Prothean genes manifest themselves?"

"Correct. But it's a lot more accurate to say that your whole entire neural network – which your brain is the central hub, of course – is tailored to that of Prothean physiology. As a result, you have the haptic sensory abilities like that of a Prothean, although to a lesser extent. In theory, we believed that we could exploit this unique trait to bridge the communication barrier between us and them. For one, it would definitely make the process of deciphering the data packets left behind in their beacons a whole lot easier."

"And…uh…are there any other _abilities_ that come with this physiology?" I hesitantly ask, thinking back to the time when I almost brought an entire building down in Omega.

Dad strokes his chin for a moment before turning his attention back to the computer terminal. He pulls up a several files and studies their content. "Apart from what I've just said…not really. You might have a higher mental threshold for pain and higher brain activity owing to your more robust neural system but nothing superhuman in particular."

My eyes widen a little in surprise. So Dad never thought I might be able to manifest biotic abilities? "Well….what if I told you that I just recently found out that I was capable of biotics?"

Dad freezes dead in his tracks and slowly fixes his eyes on to me. A gleam of scientific curiosity burns brightly in his eyes. "I'm sorry if I misheard you son, but did you just say biotic feats?"

"Yeah, it's a funny thing really," I say sheepishly, scratching the back of my head. "You see –"

Aunt Lynn cuts me off as she and Uncle Leo burst into the room. "Nick, I'm not sure if you noticed but we might be expecting even more unwanted guests,"

"What is it this time?" All manner of curiosity is gone from Dad's voice as it's replaced with concern.

"Sensors at the valley have picked up two transport vehicles heading straight here. ETA would be 5 or 7 minutes at the most given the blizzard." She turns to Uncle Leo, "Are you sure you weren't followed here, Daelon?"

"I'm pretty sure we ditched the Broker's men back after they attacked us on the Citadel," Uncle Leo replies.

"What do you mean they attacked you on the Citadel? You said you destroyed their tracking beacon back on Eden Prime," Aunt Lynn says.

"Granted, it was a stupid move heading back there, but we had to get Aurania's data backups. They must have left some men behind and picked out our ship registration tags on the Citadel's docking logs. But I'm certain they don't know we're heading here," the turian says as he tries to defend himself.

"Well, only one way to find out. You two stay here and lay low," she gestures to Dad and I. "Daelon, you, me and the asari are going to roll out the welcome mat for them at the reception area."

"What about Nazreil?" I ask.

"You mean the quarian?" She pauses as she weighs her options. "I'd feel better if I left him with you two. You know how to use a gun right, Nate?"

I nod and catch the gun that Aunt Lynn throws my way. It's my pistol that I've left behind in the bedroom. "Keep it with you at all times, you hear me?" she chides me but I know she's just half-joking. "Same goes for you too, Nick."

Dad reaches into a drawer at his side and pulls out his pistol. "Don't worry about us. You'd better get ready for them."

She nods and they hurtle out of the room, weapons at the ready. Nazreil comes bounding in a few moments later, looking slightly disheveled and out of breath. "Sorry I couldn't make it here sooner, Mr. Sunderland. I just got up from a nap when they told me to come here."

"Hey, it's fine, Naz. Don't worry about it," I give him a tap on the shoulder. "This day just keeps on getting better and better. You ready for this, Dad?"

"I've been doing this with your aunt for several years now. I think I can hold my own but you," he fixes a stern look at me, "Just get behind me and try not to play the hero. I don't need anything happening to you after all I've been through just to keep you and your Uncle Leo safe."

A little part of me feels angry that I'm still being belittled like a six year old but Dad has a point. After all that he's been through just to keep me out of harm's way; the least I could do is to follow his lead. "Fine," I say.

The three of us huddle behind a countertop as we keep a vigilant watch on the main entrance doors of the laboratory. A few tense minutes go by but all is quiet. The silence is nerve-wracking. It's like those moments when you know something is going to happen in a horror movie but you just can't tell when or where it's going to come from. I can even feel my hands starting to ache from keeping a white-knuckle grip on my gun. I'm about to think it's a false alarm after all when the bullets start flying.

"Shit…" I whisper under my breath.

"So they really are here. They sure are persistent," Nazreil quips from beside me.

The firefight outside reaches us as a dull and muted cacophony of shouts, gunfires and ricocheting bullets. Despite the throbs of pain, I hold my gun even tighter, gulping down a lump that's starting to form in my throat. Suddenly, the side door into the laboratory opens up to reveal three of the Broker's goons, one of whom is the blonde man in the trench coat.

"What the hell?!" I ask incredulously before Dad unceremoniously tugs me around the adjacent corner of the countertop so that we at least have some sort of cover to use.

"Lynn! Did any of them manage to get past you?" Dad barks into the communications channel on his omni-tool.

"Negative! We're keeping them pinned down here! No way any of them could have gotten past us here!" comes Aunt Lynn's reply amid the roar and chaos of gunfire.

"Then why are there three of them inside the lab right now?!"

"What?! They must have broke off from the main ranks. Sit tight, I'm coming to get you! Wait, hold that thought….another transport shuttle just pulled in! Reinforcements, keep your eyes peeled –" she cuts off mid-sentence but I think I hear a familiar battle-cry amidst the din.

Nazreil pops out and squeezes off a few rounds from his assault rifle at our adversaries. I join him in laying down some suppressive fire. Glassware shatter and other costly apparatus go up in smokes as we pepper the entire room with lead. Two of the operatives have already taken cover behind the laboratory countertops while Blondie hangs back at the threshold of the door. Again, I hear the familiar buzzing hums of stun rounds being fired at us. My shields barely hold out against the onslaught of bullets. By the time I retreat back into cover to vent my pistol, I hardly have any charge left on my shields. Nazreil's more robust shield system fares better than mine as he manages to keep up a sustained fire with his assault rifle.

"Lynn, we could really use a hand here!" Dad shouts desperately into his omni-tool.

"I'm coming as fast as I can! And you wouldn't fuckin' believe who I'm bringing along!"

The two operatives in the lab room keep us pinned down but the three of us just blindfire across the countertop. Hearing a temporary lull in the bullets, Dad pops out to take a few pot shots which send our opponents scrambling back into cover.

"Argh!"

Dad collapses into a heap beside me, his whole body convulsing. I just realize that he doesn't seem to be wearing any shields so one of the stun rounds must have clipped him. I can see Blondie's smug expression as he advances on us, the barrel of his gun still smoking.

"Dad!" I exclaim. I try shaking him to jolt him back to his senses but no dice. He doesn't respond so I pull him back behind the relative safety of the countertop.

Suddenly, something heavy and colossal comes hurtling through the laboratory's main doors along with an almighty battle cry. The figure tackles right into one of the operatives unlucky enough to be in its warpath, sending the operative flying off his feet. A rectangular object that the operative was carrying unceremoniously falls off his body towards the floor. A stray bullet from Nazreil pings off the metallic-looking device. Then, a red warning light starts flashing on its exterior.

Blondie and the surviving operative are quick to retreat beyond the door which doesn't lend itself to good news on our part. The device's beeping picks up in intensity.

From the corner of my eyes, I see Aunt Lynn bounding towards me, a look of pure alarm on her face.

"It's a bomb –"

_**BOOM.**_

My whole entire vision is filled with an expanding ball of fire and shrapnel. The force throws my perception of gravity into disarray as the blast knocks me clean off my feet. I faintly feel myself tumbling and rolling across the tiled floor when I come to my senses….only to see myself plunging head-first into the artic abyss that awaited me below. The explosion punched a gaping hole in the labs to the blizzard outside.

"Oh shit!" I flail my arms wildly in hopes I could grab onto something to stop my fall when I feel a strong grip wrapping itself around my wrist.

"I can't…hold on!" Aunt Lynn grits her teeth against the physical exertion as she teeters precariously on a ravaged ledge that could collapse at any second.

_Please don't give way, please don't give way._ I furiously chant in my head. With a groan of screeching metal, the ledge starts crumbling under both our combined weights. I look into Aunt Lynn's eyes and see my fear reflected in hers.

"Whatever happens, don't let go," she says.

The ledge finally collapses, sending us plummeting into the icy unknown below.

* * *

**A/N: And that's another chapter done. With all the exposition and plot development in the past few chapters, I decided to finally change things up and kick the action up a notch. And that means the obligatory cliffhanger! **

**Once again, thanks for still sticking with me and I hope you enjoyed this latest installment. Well, that's all I have to say….so until next time, guys and gals! **


	23. White Out

**A/ N: I'm trying my absolute best here to deliver more consistent updates and I hope I'll be able to better stick to this schedule of updates rather than disappearing for months at a time. It's going to be a challenge trying to not get distracted from writing this fic, but CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. **

**Well, with that little disclaimer out of the way, let's dive right into the fic. Hope y'all enjoy this next installment.**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 22 – White Out

White blurs the entirety of my vision. Vertigo renders all of my other senses obsolete. Time and space lose all meaning as I plummet down into this snowy abyss; hearing the violent winds roar as they whip all around me. Only Aunt Lynn's firm grip on my wrist reminds me that I'm still alive.

The force of gravity rears its ugly head. My shoulder collides into something solid yet soft, burying my entire being into the layer of fluff. I eat a mouthful of snow before the sheer incline of the mountain surface sends the two of us tumbling unceremoniously down its side. The impact breaks Aunt Lynn's grip.

I roll head over heels, choking on snow and barely able to breathe in this relentless vertigo. The ground disappears beneath me and I'm suspended in the air once more. I come crashing down moments later on rough mountain granite. This goes on for god knows how long. Finally, my body comes to a halting stop on the base of the valley floor.

I lie there face down in the snow; my vision flickering in and out of darkness. Without vertigo to contend with, the frigid cold starts settling it. The winds whip mercilessly over my body, sapping away what little body warmth I had left. I know I have to find shelter but my limbs just wouldn't cooperate. Hypothermia's sending all of my body's faculties into shutdown and the beating I took from the fall only exacerbated the matter. I just hope Aunt Lynn fared better than I did.

"God damnit..." I bite my chattering teeth against the pain and cold. By sheer force of will, I roll over onto my back. That physical exertion alone was near-impossible, and standing upright would prove to be another matter altogether, provided I survived the fall without any broken limbs. Still, it's a miracle that I'm in one piece so I'll take it as a sign that the universe didn't want to get rid of me just yet.

I gather all my strength and try to sit up but my protesting limbs decide otherwise. The effort takes all the fight out of me and my eyelids suddenly feel so heavy. The prospect of just giving in to this feeling is so overwhelming and the desire to close my eyes just overpowers my mind. I decide not to resist any longer; I'll just lie down here and grab a short nap. Maybe once I'm well-rested, I can start finding my way out of here. Yeah, I think I can do that.

Images of Uncle Leo materialize in my mind's eye. So too does Dad, Nazreil, Aurania, Ranae, Ralak and finally, Aunt Lynn's. Hers persist for an unusually long while before I start to hear something breaking through the void that separates the waking world from the unconscious.

"…Wake up…No place…sleeping…"

As I come to, I see somebody's silhouette violently shaking my body, even resorting to slapping my face a couple of times to bring me back to the realm of the living. "Huh…what..I-I'm up…" I mumble weakly, still in a daze. She pulls something from a pouch by her waist and jabs it into my arm.

Safe to say, it hurt like a bitch.

The fleeting, yet unimaginable pain sends the world shooting right back into clear focus. My senses go into overdrive at every detail of the world. The frigid winds stabbing into my skin, the snow bombarding my eyes; the magnitude of every external stimulus becomes multiplied tenfold. At the same time, the pain in my limbs subsides by a considerable amount. Finally, I'm able to make out the person in front of me.

Aunt Lynn's hazel eyes bore into mine through her helmet's visor. She's seems to be in one piece and she's still clad in her armor. "Wake the hell up! This ain't a place to be taking a nap!" she says as she hoists my right arm over her shoulder and pulls me up.

Thanks to the stims, I regain some sort of control over my legs again but I'm still in no state in to stay upright on my own two feet. I lean my weight against Aunt Lynn as we brave our way through the thick snow and violent winds.

"You came back for me," I weakly mumble through chattering teeth. "Thanks."

"No one dies on my watch now. I'd never catch the end of it from your dad, you hear?" she grunts, trying to push forward. "We need to get you some shelter ASAP before you freeze to death out here. Those stims can only keep you alive for so long." And she's right; I stand no chance of surviving out here with what I'm dressed in. The thin long-sleeved shirt and pants that I have on can barely keep out this degree of cold and the lashing winds.

I try my best not to become a dead weight but the subzero temperatures has me slowly slipping back into a comatose state again. Try as I might to fight it, I realize from the get go that it's an uphill battle.

"Don't you dare pass out on me now, Nate! The second you close those eyes, you're gone!" Aunt Lynn virtually screams into my ears when she sees I'm nodding off into a hypothermia-induced stupor.

"I-I'm trying, but it's just s-so cold!" My teeth are chattering so hard I'm having trouble formulating a complete sentence. "Let's just face it, we're not getting anywhere like this," I point out. We've been stumbling around in zero visibility in this blizzard and trekking through the thick snow proves to be as hard as walking around in high-gravity. Besides, we have no idea on the direction we're heading in and no means of communications; the extreme cold's shorted out our omni-tool's circuits.

"There's gotta be a cave or something on the valley walls that we can take shelter in to wait the blizzard out," Aunt Lynn says. I'm unsure if she's trying to convince me or herself, judging by the tone of desperation in her voice.

Suddenly, she stops dead in her tracks. I try following her line of vision to see what's caught her attention. The sight is an eerie one – silhouetted against the backdrop of white, something huge and imposing stands out just yards away in the distance. Her body clenches up and she already has her pistol out by her side.

"Looks like we're not alone out here after all," she mutters under her breath. "Show yourself!"

The figure steps closer and I note just how big the person actually is. Aunt Lynn raises her gun but the figure continues advancing towards us.

"Put the gun down before you shoot somebody's eye out," comes a guttural remark. Wait a minute, I recognize that voice!

Then out from the curtain of white, steps Ralak with his signature grouchy expression and all. Just what is he doing here?

"Oh, it's you. Guess you got thrown out here in the blast too, huh?" Aunt Lynn says, holstering her pistol.

"Pretty much." His eyes fall on the half-dead me. "You humans really are fragile. Come on, we'd better find somewhere to lay low before the kid freezes his quads off," he motions for us to follow him.

"You managed to find shelter?" Aunt Lynn asks exasperatedly.

"We can talk all you want once we're out of this damned blizzard," Ralak grunts without so much as a glance back at us.

The krogan's huge frame bulldozes his way through the snow with ease, leaving us a clear path in his wake. That definitely made the going a whole lot easier. After what seems like forever, the valley walls come into sight. Ralak leads us up a slope to what looks like a small crevice carved out into the mountain.

"In here," he beckons.

We enter a dark, dank cavern and I thank god for this safe haven out in the middle of this artic wasteland. It's not cozy by any means but it'll at least keep us alive. Now that we're out of the open where the wind chill can't get to us, we only need contend with the subzero temperatures. Aunt Lynn gently sets me down and reaches for something in one of her armor's pouches. She produces something cylindrical in shape and twists it before setting it down in the center of the cavern floor. Immediately, the object starts glowing orange-red and radiates sweet, glorious heat.

"Heat flares. You come prepared," Ralak grunts, eyeing the device.

"Yeah well, better safe than sorry," Aunt Lynn says as she struggles to help me out of my wet and soaking clothes. I'm shivering so much that it takes her some effort to pry it off my stiff and cold limbs. "Trust me, it's a lot less embarrassing lying buck naked out here than freezing to death in those clothes."

Eventually, I'm down to only my boxer shorts and she sits me upright, facing the flare. The heat is a godsend and I can feel the warmth warding away the impending effects of hypothermia.

"Talk to me, kiddo. You okay? Can you still feel your limbs?" she inspects all the digits of my fingers and toes, no doubt checking for frostbite.

"Y-yeah, I think," I reply. I can tell that all my bodily faculties are returning to normal, judging by the way I'm able to flex them without any complications.

"Trust me, he'll be fine. He's been through worse," Ralak smirks.

Aunt Lynn shoots a sharp glare at the krogan. "Ha-ha, I'm glad you're finding this situation a laughing matter. You know, I haven't quite been able to figure you out. Just what angle are you playing at here? You show up with the Broker's men and then start shooting them in the back. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the save back there but that stunt you pulled back there in the lab was just fuckin' reckless!"

The krogan rises from where he's leaning against the wall and folds his arms in contempt. "So this is the thanks I get from saving you and the kid's ass? And besides, how the hell was I supposed to know he had a bomb?" he growls.

"A more tactful approach would sure as hell beat charging in there guns blazing! Your stupid little stunt could have almost got us all killed!" Aunt Lynn raises her voice.

"Do you really want to do this here right now?" Ralak challenges as he stares Aunt Lynn down. He's almost a full head taller than her and not to mention three times her size. God damnit, why is it that Ralak has to butt heads with almost everyone he meets?

"Okay, enough you two! Thanks to Ralak here, we're all still alive and breathing. And Aunt Lynn, you might not know it but this marks the third time that he's saved me now, so just…back off all right?" I say, trying to defuse the situation.

"You gotta be shitting me right? Him?" She looks at the krogan warily as she tries wrapping her head around the absurdity of my words.

"The kid's vouching for me, so it's his word against yours," Ralak growls.

Aunt Lynn eventually gives in. "Fine, I'm just gonna have to trust you on this one," she sighs deeply and removes her helmet. "And you're right. As much as I hate to admit it, Nate's got a point. You've saved my ass twice in a row now. I'm not the kinda gal who forgets that."

"That's what I thought," Ralak says as he sits himself down opposite us by the heat flare.

Aunt Lynn returns her attention on tending to me while I sit all huddled-up trying to soak in as much of the heat as I can. The three of us sit there in relative silence as the icy gales howl outside. This goes on for some time and I'm just content to sit there while the heat thaws out my body and the tension between my aunt and Ralak.

"Name's Lynn. Lynn Sunderland."

"Hmm?" Ralak looks up.

"With all that's been going on, I just realized that we don't even know each other's name," Aunt Lynn explains.

"Jorgal Ralak," Ralak replies, not one to waste his words. He's still harboring some contempt against Aunt Lynn but if he's on speaking terms with her, then I guess it's not all that bad.

"A pleasure. Listen, I just want to apologize for my behavior back there. It was totally uncalled for and I didn't mean to be some ungrateful jerk to someone who's saved both my life and my nephew's."

This gets his attention. "So...you're the kid's aunt? Guess the quads must run in the family," he says amusedly while eying me.

"Okay, so I'm gonna go ahead and guess that you two must have known each other for a while now,' she surmises. "You're already sharing inside jokes that I'm not in on."

"Well…if you put it like that, then yeah, we have," I answer.

"Care to share? Until the blizzard blows over, we're stuck here with nothing better to do," she asks.

"I don't think you'd really want to hear it. It's a long story and besides, I'm not too proud of what I did back then."

"Come on, do it for your aunt. I'd love to hear what you've been up to before you got here," she slaps me encouragingly on the back. "You can tell me anything, I won't hold it against you. And if you're worried about your Dad finding out, then you have my word: my lips are sealed."

"If you really insist...then okay," I exhale and search through my head on where best to start. "Well, while we were on the run from the Broker's men on the Citadel, we ended up in Omega." Aunt Lynn's eyes widen at the mention of the place but she keeps her thoughts to herself. She nods along, telling me to continue. "Anyways, I lost my temper with Uncle Leo and I stormed out into the city alone. One thing led to another and before I knew it, I ended up fighting for my life in some underground brawl," I recall. Thanks to the benefit of hindsight, I realize just how foolish I was to charge headlong into the galaxy's den of criminal scums and lawlessness all alone.

"I'm guessing you showed them who's boss if a clueless eighteen year-old boy from Earth went toe-to-toe with some of the galaxy's most notorious criminals and lived to tell the tale?"

I scratch the back of my head. "Not quite," I reply sheepishly. "I barely made it out of there alive –"

Ralak interjects. "I saw the kid fight. Managed to hold his ground until he fought his way up to me. The Blue Suns, the sons of bitches who were running the whole entire operation thought that I rigged the whole fight. They cuffed me to the kid and threw us in a cellar. I wasn't going to just sit around until they decided to kill us so we fought our way out," the krogan looks at me knowingly as one would look at a partner in crime. I appreciate that Ralak's smart enough to leave out the part about my biotics because I really don't feel like explaining it to Aunt Lynn when I barely know anything about it myself. "Long story short, we bump into the turian and got the hell out of that shithole."

"Yep, I think that pretty much sums it up," I nod along with Ralak's summary.

She clears her throat when I catch her staring at me. "Wow, I've seen plenty of shit through all my years of service in the Alliance but I gotta say, that story of yours definitely takes the cake." She tries keeping up the façade of being unfazed but she's not doing too good of a job at it. "I'll see if I can arrange a little hand-to-hand combat drill one day to see for myself those kick-ass skills in action." Aunt Lynn gets up and scoops out another one of those heat flares from her pouch. The current one is starting to die out, if the flickering glow is any indication.

"How many more of those you got there?" Ralak motions to the flare.

"Enough to get us through this…I hope," she replies. Uncertainty colors her words. "Speaking of which, how did you manage to find this place anyway?" she turns to Ralak.

The krogan just shrugs his shoulder. "Pure dumb luck. I landed close to the valley walls and just started searching along them, hoping to find shelter."

"That's some pretty fast thinking on your part," Aunt Lynn pops open another one of those heat flares and tosses it right next to the dying flare.

"The winters back on Tuchanka will do that to ya."

"But how did you know to come searching for us out there?" she asks.

"I saw you two toppling over the edge up there in the labs before I fell down in here. Figured as much that you two would be out here somewhere."

Aunt Lynn flashes a smile of gratitude. "Thanks."

Ralak just waves it off. "Whatever. I'm just glad you brought those flares along. Definitely beats sitting here in the cold. Once you get the omni-tool working again, tell that turian to come get us."

"The sooner the better. I'm already sick of this place," I mutter, rubbing my hands together to warm them up.

"Yeah, you and me both, kid," Ralak pipes up in agreement.

* * *

We must have waited for what seemed like several hours, huddled together in the cave before the blizzard finally died down. It's a good thing too as we were down to our last heat flare. The three of us emerge out into the snowy fields and I realize just how silly we must all look – like cavemen finally coming out to see the first shreds of sunlight. Where the blizzard once reduced visibility to zero, the heavy skies streaked with signs of the receding snowstorm afforded us a clear view of the entire valley floor.

"There!" I call out, setting my sights on the row of red, pulsing beacon lights that line the roadway up the mountains in the distance. My clothes have since dried off and I tuck my hands under my armpits to keep them warm. Aunt Lynn came up with the great idea to wrap my clothes up in one of the dying heat flares to warm them up; an idea that I'm now immediately thankful for. Even if it can't keep out the cold for long, it's still something.

She tries opening up her omni-tool but to no avail. "Damn it! The circuits must still be shorted out," she curses. I can see her eyes reevaluating our situation and working on a new course of action. It doesn't take her long before she comes up with one. "You two stay here and lie low while I go get help."

"Why can't we all just go together?" I start to protest.

"From what you're dressed in, I doubt you'd be able to weather the cold. And besides, I'm not sure how long of a hike it's going to be to get back up the mountain to your Dad," she argues.

I'd hate to admit it but Aunt Lynn does have a point. I ball my fists up in frustration. I'm so sick and tired of always having to be the dead weight here. It's not fair to see everyone risking their lives for me and yet, I can't even lend a helping hand. "Fine, looks like I have to wait for somebody else to come to my rescue _again_," I huff, rolling my eyes.

"I'm sorry Nate, but you'll only slow me down."

"Don't mean to interrupt you two but I don't think your plan's gonna work out," Ralak says, as he squints to make out something in the distance.

"What –" she stops mid-sentence when she sees what Ralak's referring to. "Damn it. It's those assholes again."

A Mako transport shuttle can be seen veering off the main roadway and heading down the valley floor towards our general direction, its huge tires kicking up a flurry of snow. Looks like the Broker's men are combing the area for us and it doesn't seem as though they've seen us yet.

"I say we go out there and give them a nice, warm welcome," the krogan growls.

"Okay, new plan," Aunt Lynn proposes. Her snap decision-making ability is starting to impress me, to say the least. "We stick to the part where you two lie low but I'll create a diversion. When they're distracted, you two pull a little grand theft auto on their vehicle."

There's a gleam in Ralak's eyes. "I'm starting to like this plan B already."

"Just be careful though. We don't know how many of them we're up against. Just stay low and try not to take any unnecessary risks."

I nod my acknowledgement. "Gotcha."

With that, Aunt Lynn secures her helmet and bounds off into the snow while the two of us hang back in wait. Ralak hefts the shotgun that he has with him and I check over the extra pistol that Aunt Lynn has convinced Ralak to lend me. I lost mine somewhere during the unceremonious tumble into the valley.

The vehicle slowly approaches the mouth of the cave…and drives right by it. It comes to a stop when they finally spot Aunt Lynn trotting along the snow. Four of the operatives, all human, disembark from the Mako.

"Hands in the air where I can see them!" the only female of the group barks. All of them level their assault rifles at her. They're all standing in front of the vehicle, which gives us a straight shot towards the rear of the Mako. We hop out of the cave and I let Ralak take the lead as he clears the snow

Aunt Lynn does as she's told, holding her hands up and turning around to face them.

"Where's the kid? Where is he?"

"I'd love to tell you guys but quite frankly, I'm looking for him myself. If you've seen him, tell him his aunt's looking for him," she jovially retorts.

"You have till the count of three to tell us where he is. One…two...thre – what the?"

She activates the tactical cloak on her suit and disappears from sight. The operatives all look around in bewildered surprise. "She's got a tactical cloaking unit on. Stay sharp!" the squad leader hollers.

We're mere inches away from the Mako when one of the operatives finally spots us. "Target sighted! He's with the krogan by the vehicle!"

"Oh shit!" I stumble the last stretch to the vehicle and press myself up against it. Just in time too when I hear the bullets pinging off the Mako's hull.

"Halt fire! Switch to stun rounds! Remember, we need the target alive! Anybody else associated with the target is expendable!" the squad leader calls out.

"No way we're getting to the doors now," I say out loud.

Ralak just shoots me an incredulous look. "You don't say."

I take a peek around the corner and see the four fully-armored figures rapidly advancing on our position. That's when Aunt Lynn drops her cloak and subdues the man furthest back in the group. She disarms him and slams him down into the snow in a brutal takedown. Assault rifle in hand, Aunt Lynn opens fire on the three unsuspecting operatives.

The bullets only whittle their shields down but it's enough to draw their attention. "Taking fire on our six!" the three of them dive into the snow and lying on their backs, they return fire. Aunt Lynn activates her cloak again to dodge the incoming salvo. Two of the operatives break off and continue advancing towards the back of the vehicle while the other deals with Aunt Lynn.

They round the corner cautiously, making sure to keep their distance from the krogan. Ralak doesn't give them that chance. He bumrushes the two operatives and catches them off guard in a vicious clothesline. I hear their weapons go off but their shots go wild as they tumble head over heels in mid-air. While everybody is preoccupied, I seize this golden opportunity to make a run for the passenger door.

No sooner than I lay my hands on the door handle, the door panel flies open, catching me in the jaw. I get knocked back a few steps and something heavy collides into me, causing the pain I took from the fall to flare up again. I get pinned to the ground by an operative who I assume must be the driver. I struggle against his weight but he's got me effectively pinned down. I see him take something out from one of his armor's compartments but I know I'm not going to just lie still to find out what it is.

In a last-ditch effort to break free, I wriggle to make enough room for my one of my legs to knee him in the crotch – the part of his armor which I had hoped would have the least amount of protection. Well, let's just say that it hurt my knee a lot less than it hurt him. Stunned by that blow, I reach up to grab the ridges of his armor's collar and pushing off his body with both my legs, I toss him backwards in a sacrifice throw.

I get back up on my feet, and search for my pistol. I see it lying in between me and the operative. His gaze meets the gun and then mine. Immediately, I throw myself forward to grab the gun which I barely snag out of his grasp. I clamber hastily to my feet and before I'm able to get a shot off, he tackles me to the ground again. This time, I've kept a firm grip on the gun and I'm still holding it as we wrestle on the ground. I'm operating on pure instinct now.

I drive the barrel of the gun into his chest.

"Get off of me!"

I don't even hesitate as I squeeze the trigger repeatedly.

The gun goes off. His shields and armor don't even stand a chance at such a point-blank range. I stare into his eyes through his visor as the life slowly flickers out of them. His body crumples to a heap on top of me, and I struggle to get the repulsive hulk of flesh off of me. I don't even know if I'm more disgusted by the dead body or by the very act that led to it. My vision takes on a tunnel-like quality as I focus solely on getting to the Mako.

Somehow, I manage to clamber my way into the vehicle and I sit there, keeping an unsteady aim at the passenger door. Ralak's the next to get in and he's about to make another one of his quips again when he spots my shell-shocked expression. He takes the gun out of my trembling hands. Aunt Lynn's the last one in. After shutting the door behind her, she hops into the driver's seat and guns the engine, sending the Mako hurtling back up towards Peak 10.

"Oh god…oh god…" I bury my head in my hands, trying to process what it is that I've just done.

"I just killed somebody."

* * *

**A/N: Can't believe I'm already at the twenty-second chapter of this fic. Which means that we're somewhere within the halfway mark of what I have planned out for this first installment in what I hope to be a trilogy of sorts. **

**So I'm taking a few creative liberties here with the heat flares and the omni-tool which could probably deviate from the lore but hey, that's what artistic liberties are for, right? Besides, as far as the Mass Effect wiki and in-game footage has to say, I don't think I'm violating any established lore when it comes to the omni-tool. **

**And Nate's just made his first kill in the name of self-defense which probably wouldn't sit too well with his conscience. Oh, just what ever will happen to him next? Stay tuned to find out! =O**

**Thanks again for taking the time to read this fanfic and as usual, feedback and criticisms are more than welcomed. **

**Well then, till next time, ladies and gentlemen! **


	24. Consequences

**A/ N: Another chapter in a week! Would you look at that! I think I'm starting to get the hang of this! Let's just hope this weekly update schedule holds. Oh damn it, I think I just jinxed myself. **

**Once again, Mass Effect is copyright….you know what, why the heck am I even bothering with this. Clearly, Bioware isn't taking offense to the THOUSANDS of fanfics that's out there. In fact, I bet they're secretly swimming in the gold bars and dollar bills that all this fanfic is generating for the sale of Mass Effect merchandise. **

**With that little rant out of the way, it's time for the main reason of why you're all here!**

**Back in the last chapter, Nate's performed his first kill and you can bet that an act of that magnitude won't sit too well with him. I'll try my best to keep this as unmopey and un-angsty as possible since that's not what I'm really aiming for here; but rather trying to capture the experience of having to deal with the consequences of involuntary manslaughter for the first time. **

**So, I'll just let this chapter speak for itself.**

* * *

MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS

Chapter 23 – Consequences

Aunt Lynn drives with reckless abandon, sending the Mako barreling through the open hangar bay doors. She slams the brakes and the vehicle comes to a screeching halt. I'm the first one out as I burst through the passenger door. I'm already hyperventilating in the limited confines of the shuttle.

I gasp desperately for air but no matter how much I breathe in, I still feel nauseous and sick to my core. I collapse onto my knees and retch but nothing comes out. I close my eyes to block out the sensation but every time I do, I see the cold, empty gaze of the dead operative staring back at me.

"Hold your fire! It's us!" Aunt Lynn raises her hands in warning to the catwalk that lines the side of the garage bay.

Nazreil and Ranae emerge warily from behind the supply crates strewn on the catwalk and upon seeing us, they hurriedly make their way down to us.

"Goddess! Is he okay?" Ranae asks, her voice etched with concern.

Nazreil rushes to the open hangar doors and peers outside to see if we were followed. "He's not hurt, is he?"

"We're fine if anybody cares to ask," Ralak mutters dryly as he exits the Mako.

Now that I'm back out in the open again, I'm actually starting to feel better, but not by much. Which is more than what I can say of a few minutes ago while trapped in the Mako.

"I'll go get Mr. Sunderland and Mr. Leo. They'd want to know about this," Ranae rushes off into the labs.

"Just what happened to him?" Nazreil steps over to me.

Aunt Lynn looks up to him from where she's at by my side. "He had to kill one of the Broker's men in self-defense."

"Keelah…."

"Well, there's a first for everything, I guess," Aunt Lynn says as she puts a reassuring hand on me. "Nate, I know this mustn't have been easy on you but things like this…it's bound to happen sooner or later."

I retch again as her words transport me back into that moment. "But I-I killed him. I-I shot him," I manage to mumble out through my delirium.

"Is everybody okay? Damn it, you two, I thought you were gone when I saw you falling into that chasm."

I hear a new voice entering the fray and I look up to see Uncle Leo and Dad hurrying their way towards us. The turian stops in front of Ralak and glares at him. "You and I are going to have a talk after this," he seethes.

"God damn it, Lynn. Don't ever scare me like that ever again," Dad strides towards us, concern etched all over his features.

She looks up to him and can only return a sly smile. "I'll promise to let you know in advance the next time I fall off a cliff, okay?" He responds with a relieved grin and she lightly punches him on the shoulder.

"Alright, everybody get into the shuttle now!" Uncle Leo orders. "Those bastards might have backed off but I don't want to be here in case they decide to show up again."

Dad wraps one of my arms over his shoulder and scoops me up. "Come on, it's not safe here anymore. I'm sorry, but we have to go, son."

I don't even have the strength left me in to protest against going back into that claustrophobic hull. Everything feels so disjointed, as though my mind and body doesn't even belong to me anymore. Nazreil helps Dad in dragging me to the Mako and plops me down in the front passenger seat instead of the cramped rear hull.

I just let my head lie back against the headrest as I try to sort out all these emotions running through my head. The initial shock of the moment is slowly starting to ebb away, only to be replaced by an overwhelming guilt that's slowly eating away at me. I vaguely hear Ranae being the last to get in and Aunt Lynn clambering next to me in the driver's seat. The Mako roars to life and moments later, we leave Peak 10 behind. I gaze into the Mako's rear view display. The stillness of the research lab's silhouette framed against the overcast skies is such a contrast to what I'm experiencing now.

Thankfully, we pull into Port Hanshan's garage hangar without further incident. The Broker's men must still be out there combing through the mountain for me. All of us pile out of the vehicle and stow our weapons away in a supply crate like the ones we previously loaded into the Mako.

"So, what do we do with all those guns?" Aunt Lynn inquires.

"We smuggle them out and back onto the ship," Uncle Leo replies. "Ranae, take Lynn with you and go out the same way we came in."

The two head towards the far end of the hangar and disappear around a corner where all the supplies are shipped in. The rest of us waste little time in taking off for the spaceport, and I've recovered my senses enough to stumble along with them. Every minute of it feels like I'm walking through a hazy dream; as if I've lost touch with reality altogether. My body switches to autopilot and just puts one foot in front of the other for me. While my attention drifts in and out of the present, I bump into someone.

"Sorry," I just mumble, still in a daze.

"Don't worry about it." A man's voice who I assume must be the person I bumped into assures me. He sounds emotionally-drained.

I don't even notice who the person is. All I recall is a red-and-white 'N7' insignia emblazoned onto his chest plate. Uncle Leo pulls me aside and gives me a slight nudge forward. My feet just stumble along its intended path. The passage of time blurs and I find myself back in the Vanguard. Only one thought pops into my head and that's of the cozy bed waiting for me in my room.

I shuffle along into my room, climb behind the covers and just lie there, staring directly at the ceiling overhead. I can still see the outlines of the operative's eyes boring into mine and the oppressive burden of guilt pressing down on me. I don't know how long I must have been there like that before the day's emotional and mental fatigue overwhelms me.

* * *

I open my eyes to the sound of some heated argument brewing in the living room outside. The sleep was far from the restful and dreamless slumber that I hoped it to be. Looks like the unease has spilled over into the waking world too.

"You led them to us, didn't you?" a flanging voice accuses.

"All they told me was that they just wanted to keep tabs on the kid," another gravelly voice fires back.

"And you just believed what they told you?" Uncle Leo sounds_ pissed_. "No, you wouldn't be the type to do this out of sheer generosity. What was it then, money? How much did they offer you?" There's a short pause from Ralak. "I knew it! It's always about the money with your kind. I knew letting you tag along on Omega was a bad idea. I should have just put a bullet in your head when I had the chance."

"Oh yeah?!" Ralak roars, and I hear something heavy crashing to the floor. "If it wasn't for me, your precious little kid would be dead by now! He'd be left to rot in a garbage dump by the Blue Suns if it wasn't for me! And you guys too, I risked my life back there on Noveria to save your asses! And this is the thanks I get?!" Ralak shouts, his every words laced with venom. "This is exactly why I needed the credits in the first place, turian! So that I can finally pay for my own passage back to Tuchanka where I don't have to put up with ungrateful bastards like you!"

"Hey, hey! Calm the fuck down you two!" another voice joins in. The authority and firmness in the voice definitely belongs to Aunt Lynn. "Let's just take a second to stop pointing fingers at one another and just try to work this out, okay? Daelon, what you said to him was totally uncalled for! You need to realize that if Ralak hadn't showed up, we'd be in some pretty deep shit right about now."

"And sending you and Nate plummeting down into an icy gorge wasn't bad enough?" the turian retorts.

"Hey! We'd be dead too if it wasn't because of him. Plus, we didn't know the Broker's men had a bomb with them. It's a good thing too that the thing blew up in a reinforced structure like the labs. Hell, if they got a chance to set it somewhere else, who knows what could have happened? From the looks of it, the ordnance could be enough to wipe Peak 10 off the map if they set it off in the power core." I hear her directing her next few words at the krogan. "And you, accepting that offer was a shit move but I agree, it wasn't your fault. You didn't know those people and you definitely didn't know about the shit that we're already up to our necks in."

Another palpable moment of silence. I can already picture the two staring each other down, with Aunt Lynn the only thing standing between the two and bloodshed. "And say all you want about him, Daelon, but it's not going to change facts. I'm gonna vouch for the big guy here. He pulled through when it really mattered. Hell, even Nate himself will agree with me on this." Silence. Then, she lowers her voice. "Come on, Daelon. Sometimes, you just gotta give them a second chance. You can't let the mistakes they made define who they are."

Uncle Leo remains deathly quiet as he picks over Aunt Lynn's words. There are only two instances that I can recall when his otherwise jovial and bubbly personality can be rendered completely silent like this. The first was when I asked of his family, and the second was when I asked if Dad would ever return home.

"Screw this, I'm getting the hell off at the next spaceport! Let's see where you'll be this time without me around!" Ralak fumes, even more angered by Uncle Leo's silence.

With that, I hear a heavy stomping of feet heading beneath deck. I turn around in bed and hear somebody clearing their throat.

"Uhh…hope you don't mind me in here," a voice comes from the foot of my bed. The familiar outline of Nazreil's helmet peek over the edge of the bed's covers. He must have been lying down on the empty floor space at the foot of my bed.

"What're you doing in here?" I grumble, addled by the lack of sleep and the fact that I'm feeling like crap on the inside.

"Well…I offered up my room to your father and aunt. I figured they needed it more than I did," the quarian explains. "I was outside on the couch outside when Mr. Leo and Ralak decided to _talk _things out. It got a little bit dicey so I just snuck my way in here to check up on you. How're you feeling? You want to talk about it?"

I just groan and roll over under my covers, eyes still wide awake. For once, I just want to be left alone but now that I think about it, maybe I really should talk about this. Let it all out, vent it to someone who'd listen so that I can finally make some sense of this guilt. But I'm scared to even want to remember it. So where am I going to find the courage to dig into the recesses of my mind where I stowed that moment away to even want to talk about it?

"I appreciate the gesture, Nazreil but can we just…can we just forget about it?" I say.

I'm sure he must have been disappointed by my response. "Nate…you were a total train wreck back there. It's not going to help if you just keep bottling it up like this."

"Then how did you handle it when you took someone's life away for the first time?" I snap, immediately regretting it.

Nazreil looks taken aback but he regains his composure nonetheless. "Before every single quarian start out on their Pilgrimage, we're told on what to expect in the galaxy outside the Fleet. Self-defense was especially stressed upon and there was no doubt in all our minds that there will come a time when we'd have to take someone's life away when our survival depended on it," he begins.

"But what about the guilt? You don't do something like that and expect to come out of it good as new."

"Make no mistake, none of us would kill unless we had no choice. Life on the Fleet has brought us to acknowledge the fact that all life, just like the scant resources we have, is precious and shouldn't go to waste." I see the outline of his eyes searching for the right words that he's about to say. "We know it's a cruel world out there for our kind, but we can't let our own personal grievances get in the way of having to pull that trigger because we know that some people out there in the galaxy won't hesitate to do the same on us. What's the news of another dead quarian to the galaxy anyway, right?"

"Is that how you justify it then?"

"Just let me finish, Nate. We're not unfeeling killing machines like the geth. We're just always taught to remember that the need of the Fleet comes first and that, no matter what it takes, we have to make it back home one day where we have people counting on us. Even if it means to kill in self-defense."

"That's it then? You do it for the greater good because it triumphs over everything else?"

"No, no…it's not that simple. Keelah...it's more than that. I-I…" Nazreil struggles to explain but he comes up empty.

I doubt if I'll be able to relate to what he's saying given that I never grew up in rickety old ships where I'd have to worry if there was going to be breathable air on a day-to-day basis. But it's the thought to cheer me up that count, right? "It's okay. I think I kinda get what you're trying to say, Naz. It's definitely given me some food for thought," I say, my tone softening at the sincerity of his intentions.

"You do…?"

"Yeah, and I appreciate it." I meant every word of it. The solidarity of knowing that I'm not alone in this definitely helped. Plus, some fresh new perspectives on this emotional crisis I'm going through definitely wouldn't hurt.

Nazreil turns to leave. "Well, I'm glad I could help. If you um…if you need anything, you know where to find me," he says, stepping through the threshold of the door.

The door slides shut, leaving me alone to my thoughts again in the darkness of the room. Knowing full-well that I'll be unable to fall asleep, I just sit up and stare out the viewport located on the wall to the right of the bed. The pulsing aura of blue blanketing the ship as it travels at FTL speeds make for a soothing sight. The endless sea of stars beyond also added to the calming effect. But try as hard as I might, I can't seem to reason the guilt away. I can still feel it festering as an unnatural weight in my chest. Exasperated, I let my eyes search through the vista of stars, hoping to find whatever it is that I seek.

* * *

I peek my head outside. There's nobody outside except Nazreil who's asleep on the couch. An unnatural hush falls over the living quarters of the Vanguard with only the drive core engines silently humming along in the background. I tip-toe my way to the kitchen and pop open the refrigerator door to see if there's anything to quell my growling stomach. I settle for an uneaten tuna sandwich in the levo-amino section of the refrigerator.

I make my way into the cockpit and just plop down into one of the pilot chairs, sandwich in hand. The view out here is just like in the viewport in my room, only more grandiose as the large cockpit windows envelope the entire upper half of the hull. I look at our pre-set destination on the ship's flight controls. Zorya.

"Couldn't sleep?"

I jump a little at the sudden voice as Uncle Leo slides his way into the seat next to mine. I swear, the turian can be one hell of a sneaky bastard sometimes.

"Yeah," I take another bite of my sandwich.

Uncle Leo groans as he reclines back against the seat, and I hear a couple of his joints pop in the process. "Guess all that fun and excitement back on Noveria is catching up to me," he remarks.

"You can say that again."

"So…how're you holding up?" he asks; concern clearly evident in his voice. His expression softens as he looks at me.

"I'm alright, I guess," I brush the question off, not daring to go anywhere near the topic that Uncle Leo's trying to imply.

"Hey, look at me," he puts a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. "I've known you for 18 years now and I know when you're lying to me."

I sigh deeply and close my eyes. "I really don't want to talk about it, Uncle Leo. I really, really don't."

"Nonsense. You're clearly shaken up over it," he says. There's no use in lying to him. Uncle Leo's one of the few people out there who can read me like an open book. "I know it's hard but bottling it all up on the inside isn't going to help me or you. Trust me on this one, Nate. I want to help, but only if you'll let me."

I just wished that he would go away and stop bugging me but I know that's not going to happen with the innate stubbornness of all turians. I finally relent and give in. "What do you want me to say? I just killed someone and you're going to tell me that everything's going to be all right?"

Uncle Leo just shakes his head. "What have I kept telling you during all of our target practice sessions? You know full well of the responsibilities that you'll have to assume whenever you point a gun at someone."

I think back to our time in Omega when we were firing at empty bottles for target practice. I clearly recall Uncle Leo constantly going off on a spiel about the ethical and moral ramifications of having to shoot to kill. Back then, I'd never thought it'd concern me since I was just too caught up in the thrill of firing a real gun for a change. That was clearly a mistake.

"Yeah, but all the lectures in the world is never going to prepare you for actually having to do it in person," I say in defense. "I mean, how does anyone even deal with the guilt of having to do it for the first time?"

He lowers his gaze at me. "I know what you mean, Nate. Nobody is ever prepared to take a life away. I remember my first time having to end another's life while serving in the military. It wasn't pleasant."

"Then how do you deal with the guilt of it all? How do you make it go away so that it doesn't eat you up from the inside out?" I plead, clutching at my chest where the emotional weight's still pressing down on me.

"That's the thing, Nate. You don't," Uncle Leo's expression widens into a consoling grin. "You live with it, you learn to manage it. It's going to be rough at first but eventually, you'll come to get the hang of it." He waits a moment for the words to register. "Because when it all comes down to it, that feeling of guilt is the only thing that separates us from the psychopathic murderers and serial killers out there."

Suddenly, I feel myself looking in through a whole new door on my predicament. "So what you're saying is that…"

The turian nods. "Truth be told, I'm actually relieved myself that you've got guilt on your mind to deal with. It's all part of a natural psychological response to something like this. In fact, guilt is what gives us all a moment of clarity so that we can see why we have no choice but to pull the trigger in the first place."

"And once we stop contending with the guilt, we lose sight of who we are? Even of all our morals and humanity? I say, trying to follow Uncle Leo's train of thought.

"Precisely. I can still remember with startling detail of the first kill I've ever made. It still follows me around to this day, but I don't let it impede with me living my life, in fact, it's given me resolve to fulfill whatever purpose the spirits have for me so that I don't let their life go to waste." He playfully ruffles my hair. "And that purpose is to stay by your side for as long as I'm able to."

"Hey! Stop it!" I can't help but laugh a little as I try swatting his hands away. "It was okay when you did it a few years ago but don't you think I'm a little too old for that now?"

"Not in my book," he shoots back, mandibles widening into a mischievous smile.

The two of us sit there in the cockpit, content to just playfully mess around with one another.

"Hey, Uncle Leo?" I ask.

"What's up?"

"I'm glad we had this talk. I really do," I thank him for that useful bit of advice. Suddenly, the guilt doesn't seem all that bad anymore.

"You're more than welcome." Uncle Leo straightens his clothes and gets up to his feet. "It's what I'm here for, remember?"

"Also, since I'm trusting you on this, think you can trust me on what I'm about to say too?"

"Say what?" He raises an eyebrow at this.

"I know Ralak and you might not have seen eye-to-eye on a lot of things but he's not as bad as you make him out to be. Sure, he might have gotten us into a lot of trouble but think about it, he's always there to bail us out of it. I can tell that he's really trying to change but sometimes, it's not his fault that trouble always seems to find him, given the kind of life he's led."

Uncle Leo listens attentively and files what I've said away. He doesn't seem to be aggravated or anything so I'll just take that as a good sign. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Just promise me you'll at least give him another chance?"

He allows just a hint of a smile to show on his face. "I'll try."

With that, he leaves the cockpit and I recline back against the leather-lined seats. Unbeknownst to me, Dad lies awake in Nazreil's former room, pleased at the outcome of Uncle Leo's conversation with me.

* * *

**A/N: Since this is pretty much a character-driven piece, I'd love to hear feedback on how I managed to write this. It's definitely a refreshing change when I have a nice mix of action-heavy sequences, plot exposition bits and character-driven pieces to write but I still think I have a ways to go before I really nail it on the character-driven parts. In as much as this is fun for me to write, I also want to treat it as an exercise in creative writing. **

**Once again, many thanks go out to those taking the time to read this fic. I'll see you in the next update hopefully by next week if I'm able to stick to my current schedule which I seriously doubt. It's midterms week next week! =O**

**Anyways, toodles~**


	25. Tropical Suns

**A/ N: Anddddd I'm back with yet another update, even if I've missed my usual deadline by a week. I meant to write in the few free days I had between the end of midterms and the start of Spring Break so I could churn a chapter out but… my body's immune system decided that it was the best time for me to fall really, really sick. As you can guess, I didn't manage to get a single word on paper at all. Sorry about that, guys and gals. **

**So the majority of this chapter's written while I'm down here in New Orleans doing some volunteer over Spring Break so I had to rush things a little. Apologies for the late update and if the quality's not up to par. Ehem, I'd rather not get carried away here so…let's bring our attention back to the fanfic. **

**As implied in the previous chapter, the planet of Zorya is going to be featured prominently in this chapter. I know that Zorya was only introduced in Zaeed's mission in Mass Effect 2, and while I'm trying to limit the story elements in this fic to that from the first game, I thought I'd make the exception. After all, one of the original purposes of this fic was to explore more of the Mass Effect universe. Therefore, this take on Zorya would be my own, informed by the research that I've done of the place and of the concept art I've seen of general Zoryan architecture. **

**Ralak and Uncle Leo get plenty of screen time in this chapter so I can further flesh out their relationships and backstory so Nate's gonna be taking a backseat for a while. **

**With that out of the way, sit back and enjoy!**

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 24 – Tropical Suns

"You had the target right in your sights and yet, you let him slip by you!" Wilkins pounds his fist down on the conference table, leaving a slight repression on the wood paneling. "How does a teenage kid manage to elude five elite, professionally-trained operatives who I've hired specifically for this job?!"

Wilkins glares over his remaining team that is assembled before him. Of the nine that accompanied him to Noveria, there are only four standing in the debriefing room of the ship with him. In total, his team sustained four casualties, three by the hands of the krogan, one in the labs and the last one during the search for the target in the vicinity of Peak 10. The rest sustained varying degrees of injury but there were no cases of life-threatening wounds.

"If I might point out, sir, but our current intel indicates that the target only has the krogan, quarian, asari and turian accompanying him. We never did take into account the two other humans sighted with the target in the labs," Strousland points out.

Wilkins balls his fists up in anger, feeling his nails digging into his skin as he consciously wills himself to process the rationale behind Operative Strousland's words. Failure has an interesting definition to Wilkins. It occurs rarely enough to establish his reputation as one of the top players in the field of recovering 'stolen' property, but frequently enough to remind him that he always needs to stay three steps ahead of the game. But the recent string of failed operations has him second-guessing himself. It's not good enough that he stays three steps ahead of the target and his guardians; he's going to have to read the target's every move.

Wilkins takes several deep breathes to rein in his emotions and gather his thoughts. "As much as I hate to admit it, but Strousland's right." He rubs his temples and turns to sweep his gaze over the men and women standing before him. "I apologize for the harsh words; it was completely unwarranted of me to be calling your skills into question when the true fault lies within inadequate and inaccurate information." And Wilkins genuinely meant every single word of it. His anger stemmed less so from yet another failure at apprehending the target but rather at his own ineptitude that caused the unnecessary loss of the lives of the faithful men and women serving him.

"But that still doesn't change the fact that we've lost the target's trail. So, I want everybody to update me on whatever you manage to dig up of the target's current whereabouts and destinations," Wilkins orders, quickly reassuming control. "Mass relay ship imprints, whatever Team Echo's managed to glimpse off their starship's logs, anything that could give us a lead! I'll look through every corner of this goddamned galaxy if I have to!"

A chorus of 'yes sirs' resound throughout the room.

"Dismissed!"

His team file out of the room in an orderly fashion, and Wilkins notices a green light beeping on the quantum entanglement comm terminal. He pulls it up and notes the caller ID.

_Shadow Broker._

Just the man that he wants to see. He takes the call, and steps into the projection radius of the comm systems located at the head of the table. The lighting of the room dims, and a holographic projection of the Broker, manifesting in the form of another featureless humanoid, materializes in the center of the table.

"Mr. Briggs, it's been a while. I've been expecting a status update from your team on the mission's progress," the artificially-synthesized voice speaks.

"I apologize for the delay, sir, but I have been…_busy _as of late," he replies, making no effort at all to mask his disdain for the Broker, the man whom he suspects of withholding vital information crucial to the success of this mission.

"Indeed you have. My sources tell me that you've crossed paths with the human kid several times…only to have him slip out of your grasps repeatedly. Would you care to explain your ineptitude?"

Even if the voice was digitally masked for the sake of preserving the Broker's true identity, there was no hiding the condescension that permeated each and every word. Wilkins can feel that his own façade of professionalism is unraveling.

"Oh, you must be mistaken sir, I believe _you _are the one who has some explaining to do," Wilkins says, eyes narrowing with anger. "You see, you hired me in order to track down and return a property which you supposedly claim was stolen from you. I appreciate the funding and continued support that you've given us for the past 13 years as we relentlessly pursued the target across the galaxy. Had it been anybody else, they'd have given up on this chase by now, but not my team." He stabs an accusing finger at the holographic silhouette. "So here's what's been puzzling me so far. If you truly wanted the target successfully delivered to you, then why do you insist on continuously withholding information that could prove vital to his capture?"

The projection remains stoic, its featureless face betraying no emotional expression whatsoever. "Mr. Briggs, must I reassure you time and time again that I have shared all pertinent information on Project Remnant with your team." Unlike their last conversation, there's no hesitation in the Broker's response to Wilkins's accusation this time. "I trust that it is within your team's capability to make the most of the information you have while supplementing it with your own reconnaissance efforts. Coming from a man who constantly touts to be the best at what he does, I believe you're more than capable to take the appropriate course of action based on the intel that you have on hand."

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" Wilkins snaps. "There's no way you couldn't have known about the reactivation of the facilities in Noveria's Peak 10."

"I didn't see why it would concern you. Noverian scientific facilities are frequently rented out and Peak 10's most recent rental was registered under the domain of Sirta Foundation."

"Well, my team was up there and it clearly wasn't. In fact, we might have just run into a ghost, if your intel is anything to go by. There was a positive identification of Nicholas Sunderland in the labs, the lead scientist on Project Remnant whom your files have listed as deceased," Wilkins raises his voice, infuriated by the Broker's stonewalling tactics.

"I see, now there's an interesting development. Thank you for bringing this to light. I'll have to look into this one personally. Now is there anything else you'd like to say to me, Mr. Wilkins?" the Broker continues in an awfully calm voice. "Frankly, I don't see the point of continuing this conversation if one of us is unwilling to remain civil about it."

"Don't you fucking dare hang up on me! I've lost too many of men trying to complete this job based on faulty information! You either give me what I want or – "

"Goodbye, Mr. Wilkins and have a pleasant day," the Broker gets in the last word and cuts off the feed, leaving Wilkins alone in the conference room.

The act catches him off guard as he stares disbelievingly at where the Broker's projection used to be.

"Son of a bitch!" he slams his fist into the wall, causing the whole room to reverberate slightly. "That two-faced, lying bastard…" Wilkins paces angrily around the room, trying to decide on their next course of action. He sighs in frustration, running his hands repeatedly through his hair when he comes up empty. For the first time in his life, he's completely at a loss on what to do.

In that moment of desperation, the conversation with Matriarch Benezia on Noveria comes to the forefront of Wilkins's memory. Reluctantly, he opens up his omni-tool and navigates his way to the data packet that the asari uploaded to him. His finger hovers uncertainly over his omni-tool display screen as he finally realizes what he's doing.

_Great, now I'm playing right into that damned asari's and Saren's hand. _

He holds off on the thought, unsure that he should take that next step. Nevertheless, dire circumstances and just a little bit of morbid curiosity finally prompt him to open the data packet, Spectres be damned. The contents of the packet display themselves on multiple pop-up windows on his omni-tool, indicating the sheer wealth of information tucked within. Just on the upper corner of the current window displaying an off-world view of the planet reads, 'Feros'.

"Well I'll be damned…"

* * *

The Vanguard sweeps in low over the dense jungles and rainforests that pretty much cover the entire landmass of Zorya. Exotic tropical fauna fly overhead as I bring in the ship to join the throng of other starships in the commercial flight path entering the planet's capital city, Thun. As usual, it never ceases to amaze me on how each city across different planets manage to carve out and evolve an identity of their own to suit their planet's biospheres. Zorya's no exception.

I steer the ship for one of several gargantuan clearings in the forest floor. Traffic control cleared Tarmac AC-130 for us to land in, which is the tarmac I'm searching for right now. Upon closer inspection, I can see a slightly-elevated platform spanning the entire clearing which must serve as the spaceport's landing tarmacs. The various spaceports that ring the outskirts of the city sure do look impressive but being here for the first time, I must admit that the city itself is a sight to behold. Slowly towering their way upwards out of the dense jungle as they progress away from the spaceport, are the networks of buildings that constitute the city of Thun.

"Beautiful isn't it? I'd retire here if it wasn't for the Blue Suns making this their main base of operations," I hear Lynn saying to Nate behind me in the living quarters.

I peer out the cockpit window at the city skyline as I pull in to land. There isn't a distinctive design innate of a particular species that catches my eye, instead, the architecture is an eclectic mix. The graceful and sweeping curves of the asari are present on certain buildings, the utilitarian and militaristic geometry of the turians on others; it's all a mixed bag. One thing that does stand out however, are these pillar-like structures that ring the entire city, emitting a faint hue of energy which must be a kind of mass effect fields.

"What are those things?" Nate echoes the question on my mind.

Nicholas's voice pipes up next in response to his son's query. "Mass effect towers. Zorya's unique biosphere means that the planet has an abnormally high pollen and spore count from the jungles that stretch across its entire landmass. While most of them are harmless enough, some species find them irritable, hence the mass effect fields to keep them out of heavily-populated areas like the cities."

"Huh…well it's a good thing none of us have allergies then."

I engage the ship's landing gears and initiate the landing sequence. The spaceport lacks any sort of skybridge facilities that connect to a starship's airlock so it looks like passengers need to disembark straight onto the tarmac. I set the Vanguard down onto the tarmac and power down the ship's engines.

"Come on, let's head into the city to get some supplies. We might even be in time to bid that krogan – what's his name again, Ralak, was it? – goodbye," Nicholas says.

"I'd suggest you bring that pistol with you, Nate. The Blue Suns might be in charge of the city's security but better to be safe than sorry," Lynn adds.

Nate pokes his head into the cockpit a moment later. "Hey, Uncle Leo, you might wanna catch up to Ralak before he gets too far," he cocks his head at the bow of the ship. I see that the cargo bay doors have already been opened and Ralak's already disembarked through it. The krogan's got a duffel bag slung across his shoulder and he's already making his way to the tramline that connects to the city.

I let out a deep sigh. I've been giving it a lot of thought lately and I've begrudgingly come to accept the fact that Ralak's not as bad a character as I've initially made him out to be. Or at least, he's a decent enough krogan compared to all the other unsavory characters that inhabit the galactic cesspool that is Omega. Which is even more startling given their species' penchant for violence and bloodshed.

Nate's got a point. If I don't catch up to him now, I'll probably just lose him in the crowds. I make sure everything's powered down before heading for the airlock doors. I make sure that I have my old service pistol and bulletproof vest on me. The moment I step outside, the humidity of the Zoryan air just presses down on me. Having grown up in the rather dry and warm climate of Palaven, the climate shift is going to take some getting used to.

I scan around for Ralak, which isn't too hard given that his large, imposing frame will almost always stand out from the crowd. I spot him a moment later, entering a tramcar that's just pulled up. I look back over my shoulders to see Nate and the rest on board heading for a tramline in the opposite direction. I meet Nate's eyes and he gives me an encouraging nod.

"Alright Leonus, time to suck up that stubborn turian pride," I say to myself.

Ralak's enters the tram and I have to jog to catch up with him. I squeeze in through the tram's door before they shut and navigate my way through the crowd to Ralak.

"What is it this time, turian?" the krogan growls, his reptilian eyes narrowing in disdain at me.

My first instinct is to retort with a snappy comeback but I push away the impulse to do so. "Hey, so I've been thinking a lot about what you've done Nate and I lately." An awkward silence hangs in the air as I scramble to find the right words. "And I guess I just want to say….thanks...for everything," I finally manage to awkwardly stutter out.

"Oh, so this is you saying goodbye to me then?" Ralak continues, rolling his eyes.

I bite back another desire to shoot a snarky retort back at him since I don't want this devolving into another argument. "No… I mean, it's just... spirits, I'm horrible at this," I say, rubbing my temples. "Look, what I just want to say is, we wouldn't have made it this far if it wasn't because of you. I know I've said plenty of unpleasant things to you in the past which I really didn't mean," I pause for a moment, letting the words sink in. "It's just that I didn't really trust you around Nate at all. But after seeing how he trusts you with his life, the least I can do is afford the same amount of trust to you," I sigh deeply before I finally get to the point. "So it'll mean a lot to Nate and I if you'll continue accompanying us. Or at least until you find what it is that you're looking for."

The krogan locks his gaze at me, but his distant expression suggests that he's mulling things over. He stays like this for a couple of moments before his features soften somewhat. "I'd never thought I'd see the day when a turian admits his mistakes to a krogan of all people. Hah!" he scoffs in a rather light-hearted manner. "How do I know that you're not just wanting me back on board so that you'll have an extra pair of hands to point a gun where you tell me to?"

"Well," I start. "Having some extra protection definitely wouldn't hurt," I drop my voice, "And judging from what I've seen of you and how you feel about the Broker's men back on Noveria, I bet you'll want some payback with those bastards."

The krogan grunts in amusement. "You can say that again. But this isn't so much about revenge, although it still does factor into the big picture." He leans in closer to me. "That kid of yours, well, I gotta say that I'm impressed with what he's capable of so far. Sure, he's rough around the edges but he's got quads where it counts. I'm genuinely interested to see what he's got up his sleeves next. And besides, there's never a dull moment with you guys around."

"So….this is you saying that you'll stay?" I clarify. We both step off the tram as we arrive at our stop and walk towards the entrance of the city. At the same time, I'm too wrapped up in my conversation with Ralak to see that a couple of Blue Suns mercenaries have started tailing us.

"Think of it as my retirement plan to see the galaxy before I return back home to the pile of radioactive rubble that you call Tuchanka," Ralak says dryly.

"Then that's all the answer I need to hear. Thanks."

As per his usual demeanor, the krogan just grunts in acknowledgement.

"If you don't mind my asking, there's this one thing that I just can't figure out," I start to ask.

"Yeah?"

"How is it that someone like you end up in Omega of all places? I've seen plenty of krogan in my time who'd fit right in Omega but you, you're not like them –"

A new voice butts into our conversation. "Jorgal Ralak? We have orders to bring you in to base for questioning. You owe the Blue Suns a _lot _of credits," a Blue Suns mercenary orders and the smugness in his voice is unmistakable. "Now if you and your turian friend here would just cooperate and come with us, we assure you that there's no need for unnecessary violence. "

I see that we're surrounded on all sides by at least four members of the Blue Suns, two humans and two turians, all of them cradling assault rifles.

"Well, what if I refuse to come with you assholes?" Ralak crosses his arms, unfazed by the threat.

"Then we're gonna make you regret even coming here. If you thought we did things the hard way on Omega...well, you ain't seen nothing yet," the same human mercenary continues.

"So they did things the _hard_ way in Omega? I thought those pansies were having tea parties and playing princesses on that goddamned asteroid," he shoots back.

For a krogan, Ralak's a lot more resourceful than I give him credit for. The conversation buys us enough time to size up our adversaries while I look for a way out. I make eye contact with Ralak and motions to the two standing nearest to me. He just grins coyly.

"So what's it going to be?" the human mercenary is already making a move to bring his rifle to bear.

"This," Ralak replies before tossing his duffel bag at one of the turian guards and charging the human next to him with a mighty roar.

I follow suit as I grab the rifle of the human closest to me and slam its butt against his unhelmeted face. He collapses to a heap on the floor, clutching his bloody nose. In one fluid motion honed from almost twenty years of muscle memory, I pull out my old service pistol that Krysarae's handed to me and let loose a salvo of lead at the turian mercenary to my right. The three-shot burst fire of high-caliber rounds rips right through his shields and armor, sending him toppling to the ground.

"Let's go!" Ralak picks up his duffel bag of the ground after incapacitating the guards and we hightail it along one of the main thoroughfares higher into the city. I can hear the shocked cries of several civilians but I don't pay it too much mind. Never mind the authorities throwing our asses behind bars since they're the exact same people we're trying to run away from.

"Your mercenary friends from Omega sure are happy to see you," I remark snippily, clearly not happy at having been pulled into another gunfight that could have clearly been avoided.

"Now's not the time, turian!" Ralak shoots back. "If you hadn't notice, since they think you're with me, they're going to be shooting at you too!"

We race through Thun's crowded city streets, dodging traffic and elbowing people out of the way. "Any idea on where we're going?" I start to gasp with the physical exertion.

"Where do you think? Somewhere far far away from those bastards!"

I hear sirens blaring behind us which start closing in on our position. I glance over my shoulder and see that two cruisers adorned with the Blue Suns emblem are fast gaining on us. "They must really want you bad!"

There's an almost gleeful joy in the krogan's voice. "I know."

Ralak takes a turn into a populated shopping district, and I follow suit. He makes it halfway through the avenue when he comes to a complete stop.

"What in spirits' name are you doing?" I ask urgently. "They're just right behind us!"

"My locket!" he exclaims. He checks over himself to see if it's on his person. "Where the hell is it?!" Is that desperation I hear in his voice?

"You must have probably dropped it in the initial scuffle with the Suns. Now, come on! Let's move!" I yell, acutely aware of the cruisers pulling in at the end of the district which we just came in from and the mercenaries piling out from the cars.

"We need to go back!" Ralak says with a tone of finality, suggesting that it's not up for debate.

"Are you crazy? We're not getting back there the way we came!"

"Step aside, civilians! This is official Blue Suns business! Please remain calm and clear out of the way!" comes an amplified voice from the men positioned by the cruisers.

The crowd suddenly clears a path straight down the middle, leaving the Suns with a clear shot at us. They don't hesitate to take it. Given that a notorious merc group is policing the whole of Zorya, I should have guessed that they have little restraint before resorting to the use of deadly force. "Shit!" I scramble towards one of the storefronts and dive right through its open doorway. "We can't stay here! Come on, we gotta move!" Ralak stumbles in right after me, small trickles of blood running down his face indicating that several bullets must have grazed past him. I'd be worried if it wasn't for their innate regenerative capabilities.

"Tell me something that I don't already know, turian," he mutters dryly. "I don't care if we have to take them head on, but I can't lose that locket!" His grave expression meets mine.

"You have some kind of death wish or something?!" I lean out the doorway to return fire. "I know you krogans think you're tough and all but even you can't stand up to that hail of bullets!" I peek outside and spot a detachment of mercs breaking off from the main ranks who are rapidly advancing on the storefront we've taken cover in. "Damn it! We're sitting ducks here! We need to move!"

"I'm not leaving without that locket!" Ralak hefts his shotgun out of his duffle bag and aims it at the front door.

I sigh in exasperation. "Fine! We'll lose them and just double back for it!" I step through the store, finally noticing the patrons that are cowering in the corner. "Just passing by, don't mind us. We're not here to hurt anyone," I say, hands raised reassuringly. I spot the employee's exit just beyond the cash register at the far back at the store. "Come on, back here!" I barrel through the door and turn around to see Ralak letting loose a shotgun blast which rips through the front door, sending the merc scrambling back for cover.

The exit takes both of us into a back alley that runs parallel with the main avenue. One side of it is fenced so our only route is to head the other way down the alley deeper into the shopping district. We emerge back onto the thoroughfare just right around the corner and I just decided to head upwards, which meant climbing the escalators to the higher levels.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Ralak calls out from behind me as he stomps up the moving stairway.

"No, but it definitely beats staying put to get shot at!"

We ascend another two floors before we reach the top level of the district. I pause for a moment to catch my breath and survey our options. Having never been here in the city before, I'm clueless as to the general layout of the place so common sense just dictates that I run in the direction that takes us away from our pursuers.

"Great, trust a turian to lead us into a corner," Ralak grunts as we run into a dead-end. I survey around this little observation alcove that we're standing in to see if there's another route of here. Beyond the ceiling-to-floor glass windows that stare out over the city and the way we just came from, there's none.

"There they are!" I swivel around to see the Suns setting foot off of the escalators on the far end.

"Hope you know how to swim, turian!" Ralak exclaims from where he's standing by the glass windows.

"What?" I step alongside him and peer down at what the krogan's referring to. Sitting at the bottom of a four-story drop is one of the main aqueduct channels that weave their way around the city. The glistening waters below are marred from sight by large leaves and shrubbery of trees that form the dense jungles of Zorya. They look sturdy enough to be able to break our fall.

"Spirits…" I mutter under my breath.

"No turning back now!" Ralak takes a few steps back and fires his shotgun, leaving huge cracks in the glass.

"Take them down now!" I hear the mercs just several yards away behind us. I gulp, finally realizing that I'm stuck between – what was that human expression again? – a rock and a hard place?

"What are you waiting for, princess? An invitation?" Ralak's words bring me back into the present.

I take a deep breath and get to a running start. The weakened glass windows quickly come up on me and I angle my shoulder to face it. Through the rush of the moment, I barely hear Ralak's heavy footfalls leaving the ground as I push off at the last moment and hurtle through the glass. The windows give under both of our combined weights and I suddenly find myself plummeting into the depths below.

"Yipeee kay yay, motherfuckers!" I yell, not even aware of where the urge to do so even came from.

Green foliage rushes upwards, smacking us around for a fair bit before our feet finally meets water.

* * *

By the time we get back to where we first had our run-in with the Blue Suns, the sun is already setting over Thun, casting an orange glow and low shadows over the entire city. Still soaking wet after climbing our way out of the aqueducts from somewhere in the downtown area, we stick to the shadows in order to be as inconspicuous as possible. Occasional sirens blare somewhere in the distance, suggesting that the Blue Suns are still on the lookout for us. It isn't hard to spot where our trail of destruction began. The entire area where we had our confrontation is cordoned off with only one merc standing watch over it. Evidence markers dot the place, and one of them is set right beside a small object glinting in the setting sun.

"There it is!" Ralak makes a move towards his locket but I stop him.

"You just stay here. I'll go get it," I suggest. "In case you haven't noticed but there's not that many krogans wandering around here. They'll be able to identify you right away."

The krogan shuffles on his feet in frustration but he eventually accepts the rationale of my decision. "Fine, but just make it quick! I wanna be out of here before any more of them show up."

I remove my hat, jacket and holster that are still a little damp from our little swim in the aqueducts. It's not going to fool them completely but the small change in appearance will give them pause before they're able to recognize me. I stride up to the lone human watching over the crime scene. "What happened over here? Could you at least let me through? I need to get back to my store," I say.

"Sorry, sir but you'll just have to take a detour through DeChauncy Street instead. This area's locked down. We had a little run-in with a fugitive on the Blue Suns wanted list," the merc replies.

"Okay then, sorry to trouble you." I make a show to leave the place. As soon as the merc turns away from me, I catch him from behind in a chokehold. Thank the spirits that the area's rather deserted of people at this time. He struggles in my grasp but a combination of my height and position leaves him at a disadvantage. He eventually passes out and goes limp in my arms. I gently set him down, step past the cordon and scoop up the locket.

I make my way back to Ralak and return his locket to him. "Here you go, hope it's worth the risk to come back here," I say disapprovingly. "Now let's get out of here before more of the Suns show up."

Ralak just stands there transfixed as he inspects his locket. He finally unclasps it and out of it beams a projection of images. So the locket's one of those memory pendant things. From what I gather, they're a series of family photos of a krogan couple with a child.

"Family?" I ask, the words coming out of my mouth before I can stop myself.

He just turns to eye me with suspicion. "What's it to you?"

"Nothing, just…I never thought of you as a family kind of person."

Ralak just grunts in reply but there's a hint of tired emotion in it. "Family I'll never get to see again." He closes his locket, the images disappearing with it and hooks it over his neck. "Come on, let's just go. It's none of your business anyway; I doubt you'd understand what it's like to lose family."

The krogan stomps off towards the spaceport, leaving me to ponder his words. "You'd be surprised at just how similar the two of us are," I just say, leaving those words to hang in the air. He stops in his tracks and glance over his shoulder.

"I used to have a wife and son just like you. Never saw them again after I got dishonorably discharged from the turian military," I confess.

"Well, well. I, on the other hand, never thought you were a disgraced turian officer."

"Disgraced turian _captain, _actually_. _Call me whatever you want, but I stand by my decision to this day. Even if it costed me family and my whole entire life."

"What'd you do this time? Your commanding officer didn't like the way you made your bunk?" he replies dryly, sarcastic remark lacking its usual bite.

"Disobeyed orders at Shanxi during the First Contact War. If I hadn't, I'd be looking the lives of hundreds of humans on my hands. Many of them kids too."

The last bit must have caught Ralak by surprise, considering that he's lacking his usual retort. I just seize this opportunity to return the questions at him. "What about you? How'd you lose them?" I ask, taking a few steps forward towards the krogan.

"What else? It's the same thing that's responsible for everything that's wrong with us: the genophage."

I just nod along, guessing as much. I start walking back towards the spaceport and Ralak matches my pace. "But you had a child right? I saw one in those pictures of yours."

"I used to. Nearru and I were one of the lucky ones. We had a kid before the effects of the damned genophage sunk in. When the clans finally realized it, all hell broke loose. They started warring after other clans with fertile females," Ralak recalls, voice laced with bitterness. "I was young at the time. Young and foolish enough not to be able to see where this conflict was getting us. All I cared about was that I wielded power; hell, anybody who had a fertile female did. One day, while I was away from the encampment, a rival clan staged an ambush and well, they got caught in the crossfire. When I got back, it was nothing but rubble and dead bodies. Theirs among it."

The brutality and severity of his story makes mine pale in comparison. "Wow…I didn't know things got that bad with the krogan."

"Well, you should have! You helped the damned salarians deploy the genophage after all so don't pretend as though your kind didn't have a part in this," Ralak whirls around and snaps at me but he immediately realizes what he's done though. "Didn't mean to put it like that, turian. It's just…all this talk is dredging up some really bad memories I'd rather forget," he says, somewhat apologetic over the earlier outburst.

"Well, you and me both," I mutter.

"And Daelon, I don't normally share my life story with anybody, least of all a turian," he fixes a serious look on me and continues, "But you've done good by me today. I appreciate the help with the Suns and getting my locket back. You at least deserve to know after everything that's happened."

I just smile in return, touched by the krogan's sincere gesture of gratitude. "It's the least I could do. I've still got a couple more favors to return to you until we both call it even."

Ralak lets out an amused chuckle. "Hah, with the rate I'm saving your asses, I highly doubt it."

"It never hurts to try," I say, pleased with the fact that I'm finally able to see the krogan for who he truly is, instead of the usual façade of the aloof and sarcastic brute that he's always putting up.

The spaceport comes into sight and there's still no sign that the Blue Suns have caught up to us. At least that's a giant relief on both our parts. The only last hurdle that we have to clear is the security checkpoint that screens all outgoing and incoming visitors before we're able to make our way to the landing tarmac. Thank the spirits for the incompetency of the Blue Suns though. They don't give the falsified credentials that I have and the one that I just whipped up for Ralak a second glance before they clear us through the checkpoint, apparently more concerned with processing as many visitors to Zorya as possible. More visitors does equal more profits, after all.

We take the tram to where the Vanguard's parked and I can already see Nate and the rest pacing around impatiently outside the ship for the two of us. His face lights up in relief as he sees us approaching.

"Uncle Leo, thank God you're here! What took the two of you so long, anyway?" Nate approaches us, brows furrowing in annoyance as he looks at me. "Oh, and we just got a hail from the authorities saying that they're looking for the two of you. What's that all about?"

Ralak and I exchange looks.

"Let's just say that the two of us had a good _talk _with one another," I smile at Nate and lead him back towards the ship.

* * *

**A/N: Big shout-out to those taking the time to read and review this story. Comments and criticisms like yours really help me improve upon my writing and help rectify flaws with several story elements that I might have missed. Thanks a lot for sharing with me your two cents. Rest assured, it won't fall on deaf ears. **

**Also, I think I've dangled enough of a thread as to Ralak and Uncle Leo's backstories without giving all the juicy and exciting details away. Besides, this chapter's has gotten a whole lot longer than I expected it to. Not to worry though, you'll get to learn more about it as we progress through the story. **

**Well, I've said all that needs to be said, so I'll see you guys and gals next week (hopefully). **


	26. Clearing the Air

**A/ N: Sorry again for the delay in getting the previous chapter up but I'll try to keep to a constant schedule from now on and who knows, I might even get to churn out more than one chapter on a weekly basis, but we'll see how it goes. **

**Anyways, I loved writing about the gang's escapades on Zorya so much seeing as how it provided a nice setting to further develop the characters and flesh out their relationships with one another. So while Ralak and Uncle Leo are occupied with the Blue Suns, let's shift our focus to Nate and the gang to see what they were up to in the interim. **

**Thanks for those stopping by to read and review the last chapter, and as usual, I hope you'll all enjoy this latest installment.**

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 25 – Clearing the Air

I catch one last sight of Uncle Leo blending into the crowd boarding the tram as he takes off after Ralak. I turn back to the rest of the gang who're already waiting on me. Ranae, Nazreil, Dad and Aunt Lynn are already huddled together, exchanging small talk with one another. The humidity and the mid-day heat of the planet already has me sweating under my bulletproof vest.

"Let's go get those supplies," I say as I approach the group. I note that every one of them is clad in lightweight, tropical attire sans Nazreil of course. Even the shorts and the short-sleeved shirt I have on aren't doing much to cool me off.

"Took you long enough, princess," Aunt Lynn smirks. That comment of hers gets a small smile out of me. I've only known my new aunt for a couple of days and her personality's already starting to rub off on me.

She leads the way towards the tramline that would take us to the bazaar district of the city where we can get some provisions for our journey ahead. With seven people now aboard the Vanguard, which is a far cry from when Uncle Leo and I first left Earth, we didn't stock enough supplies to accommodate that many people. Although the ship was meant to comfortably fit up to 10 people in its living quarters, I can tell that our rag-tag group is already starting to crowd the ship.

The five of us board the tram and we're sent hurtling away from the flat tarmacs of the spaceport to the bustling and boisterous avenues of Thun's bazaar district. The marketplace must be in close vicinity to the spaceport if the relatively short tram ride is anything to go by.

"Nate," Dad calls out to me once the tram arrives at our stop, Aramarr District. "Your aunt and I have some errands of our own to run. You won't mind if we left the three of you to get supplies now, would you?" His tone of voice suggests reluctance at having to leave my side.

"It'll be okay, Nick. He's got Nazreil and Ranae with him. From what I've seen of them back on Noveria, they can take care of themselves just fine. And besides, we won't be gone too long anyways," Aunt Lynn joins in.

Dad exchange looks with Aunt Lynn, hesitation still scrawled all across his features. "You three just stay close together…and try staying out of trouble," Dad finally gives in.

"You two go on ahead. We'll be fine. We're just going to go get supplies and that's it, what's the worst that could happen?" I say, rolling my eyes at Dad's overprotectiveness. "We've got enough credits for the supplies and I promise that I'll keep a low profile," I add, seeing that Dad's still not entirely convinced.

"Fine, but you call us at the first sign of trouble, you understand?" Dad says.

It takes Aunt Lynn to shove him back into the tram. "He'll be fine, Nick. There are plenty of civilians here so I doubt if the Broker's men are going to try anything funny while we're gone. The sooner we leave, the sooner we'll get back, okay?" She turns to me and adds in a playful tone, "Just meet us back at the ship once you kids are done with your errands."

I wave the two of them goodbye as the tram takes off. Ranae steps alongside me and watches as the tram leaves the station. "Where are they going?" she asks.

"Oh, they said they had something else to do. So they're leaving the three of us in charge of getting the supplies."

Ranae looks on in slight disapproval as the tram rounds a corner and disappears from sight. "That's awfully nice of them," she remarks sarcastically. "It doesn't look like they're _too_ concerned about our safety."

"Come on, Ranae. We can handle ourselves just fine. And besides, I don't think the Broker's men are going to come after me here, what with all the people around," I gesture around at the crowds. "And that's if they manage to track us here, which I highly doubt. We'll stick together if it makes you feel any better."

Ranae stays silent a moment. "I guess you do have a point there. But we stay in each other's sights at all time, got it?" she says a bit too sternly.

"Okay, geez. No need to get so uptight about it," I retort, somewhat put-off by her harsh demeanor. Even after all that we've been through, Ranae's still pretty much a mystery to me. I can tell that she's concerned with my well-being, but I somehow get the feeling that it's stemming more from her job to protect me than actual empathy coming from one person to another. Outside of that, she seems to be constantly disgruntled whenever I'm in her presence.

Ranae motions for me to follow her as she marches for the marketplace. I sigh and just as I'm about to follow after her, I notice that Nazreil's nowhere to be seen. "Hey, Ranae!" I call out. She swivels around and crosses her arms impatiently as she looks at me. "Where's Nazreil? I thought he was with us?" I ask.

She notices too as her expression changes from one of annoyance to concern. "He was just right behind us, wasn't he?"

"That's what I thought, but I don't see him anywhere," I say as I catch up to her.

"You don't think that he's…" Ranae trails off, fearing the worse for our quarian friend.

Just as I'm about to say what's on both of our minds, my omni-tool beeps to indicate that I've received a message.

"It's from Nazreil," I say to her. She comes over to my side to read the message.

_Hey guys, I'm sorry that I left without telling anyone. I didn't want to have anyone worry about me but I met a couple of my quarian friends who're also on their Pilgrimage here! What are the odds, right? Anyways, I decided to tag along with them for a bit because we have a lot of catching up to do. Also, just leave the dextro-amino provisions to me, I'll get them myself. I'll come find you as soon as I'm done, I promise! _

Ranae and I breathe a collective sigh of relief. At least that solves the mystery of where he's run off to. Which just leaves me with another dilemma: I now have to spend the day in Ranae's company. Things are going to get _awkward_. She must have come to the same conclusion as I have, if her exasperated expression is any indication.

"So…it's just the two of us then," I try breaking the awkwardness of the moment we've both found ourselves in.

"So it would seem," she replies, not even making a point to hide the annoyance in her voice. "Let's just go get the supplies so that we can head back to the ship. I, for one, would like to get out of this heat as soon as possible."

"Lead the way then," I gesture in a chivalrous bow. Ranae just brushes past me without even acknowledging my attempt to lighten the mood. "A simple thank you wouldn't hurt," I mutter under my breath.

My earlier suspicion of the Aramarr Market is confirmed. The bazaar district rings the outside of one of the spaceport's tarmacs which means that the skyline is home to the view of a constant flurry of starships coming in and taking off. Below the skies lie the bazaar which on the other hand, is a series of bustling avenues lined with stores and street vendors selling all sorts of goods and merchandise. Unlike the upscale, metropolitan shopping districts on the Citadel Wards, there's an exotic and tropical feel to the locale. Street vendors have large overhead canopies to shield them from the sun's glare; the people here, irrespective of their races, are clothed in really casual attire; and everybody seems to be hawking out their goods at the top of their voices at every corner I look.

"Wow…where do we start?" I absent-mindedly remark after having seen first-hand the size of the place.

Ranae looks around and spots something in the middle of the entrance to the bazaar. I tag along after her to see what's caught her attention. Turns out it's a VI system designed to act as the directory for the Aramarr Market.

"Food rations and provisions," Ranae speaks to the virtual holographic display of what looks to be a human woman.

"One moment, please," the VI answers. "Search query has located 127 entries," the VI responds moments later.

"Oh Goddess…" Ranae face-palms. "Narrow down search by proximity."

"One moment please."

I sigh. This isn't going to be as easy as it looks.

* * *

It must have taken us several hours to get all the supplies that we need for the Vanguard. Ranae didn't help things either by being such a stickler for bargains. We'd go from store to store and inquire them on the prices of their goods. If Ranae felt as though we weren't getting the best deal for our purchases, she'd either haggle with the storeowners or we'd leave to try another store. It's infuriating really; she wouldn't have any of it when I started complaining either. I think I finally know what it's like to be the helpless child who's being dragged along by their mothers on a shopping spree which the child has absolutely no interest in.

I run through our list again. Levo-amino food supplies? Check. Cooking spices and ingredients? Check. Cleaning and personal hygiene supplies? Check. Service and maintenance tools? Check. We've basically procured everything on our shopping list save for the dextro-amino supplies which Nazreil promised us he'd get. It's a good thing we didn't have to lug all the supplies along with us; the stores will have them delivered right to the ship itself.

"I guess that's about it," I double check our list with Ranae.

"It looks like we've gotten everything on here. Now let's hurry on back to the ship," she huffs, eager to get out of the tropical heat.

"Hey, wait a minute!" I catch her by the shoulder. "Come on, Ranae. We're done with our errands, so why don't we do a little exploring and some sight-seeing?" I persuade, secretly hoping that she'd agree. She just sighs tiredly but I can tell that she's not buying into it.

"It's still light out and I don't want to spend it cooped up in the ship," I reason with her, motioning to the late afternoon sun. The sky's still pretty bright out even after all the hours we've spent milling around in the bazaar. I tend to forget that certain planets don't rotate at slower speeds as compared to Earth, leading to longer days.

"Nate, it's really hot out here and I'd like nothing more than to just cool off back in the ship," Ranae says, wiping beads of sweat off her forehead.

I furrow my brow in frustration at her insistence that we return to the Vanguard. "Fine, if you don't want to come along, then I'll just go off on my own," I reply resolutely, giving her my ultimatum.

She crosses her arms, clearly not happy at the choice I've given her. "Fine, but we're heading back as soon as the sun sets, understood?" she sighs.

"Great!" I beam. A little part of me is jumping for joy on the inside right about now. "Let's go grab something cold to eat. I've been seeing this local Zoryan delicacy all over the bazaar and I've been dying to try it out!" I make a beeline back into the bazaar to where I last saw the store serving said delicacy. "Come on!"

Ranae just rubs her temple irritably and follows after me into the crowd. "This better be worth it."

After browsing through several stores, we finally stop at what looks like a desserts parlor in the bazaar which served the dish. Apparently, it's called callastas by the locals here but I'm not too sure what the thing exactly is. I guess the only thing that it comes close to is shaved ice topped off with some syrup and a heaping of sliced, exotic-looking fruits.

"Two of the daily specials, levo-aminos, please," I say to the salarian cashier once we make our way to the front of the line. "And we'll make that order to go," I add after seeing that there's no seats left in the crowded store. We pay for our order, and the cashier brings our callastas to us moments later. We exit the store and I waste no time in digging into my meal.

"Holy crap, this stuff's good!" I mutter through a mouthful of the stuff. Ranae, on the other hand, eyes it a little bit suspiciously.

"What is this…?" she asks, apprehension coloring her voice.

I pause long enough to swallow my current bite before replying. "All I know is that it's sweet, it's fruity and it makes for one hell of a refreshing dessert for a hot day like this," I reply, wiping my mouth.

Ranae narrows her eyes in suspicion at me but finally musters up enough courage to put a spoonful of the stuff into her mouth. I watch her chew; her initial expression changing from one of disgust to intrigue and then finally, pure bliss.

"Goddess, this thing tastes heavenly!"

I can't help but smile a little at her response. This is the happiest I've seen her all day. "Let's get out of here. It's getting a little too crowded and stuffy for my tastes and I also wanna go see the rest of the city," I beckon to her.

She only manages to nod as she goes to town with her callastas. I open up my omni-tool to view a map of the city and start making my way to the exit of the bazaar that would take us closest to the city.

I underestimated the distance that we have to travel to get out of the huge bazaar. By the time we've managed to get out and onto the tram station, I can already start to feel my legs aching and Ranae's on her third helping of the callastas.

"Holy crap, we should just have taken one of the rapid transits in the bazaar instead," I pant, massaging one of my legs to quell the ache. It's a good thing that the late afternoon sun's no longer as hot as it was when we first got here. Walking in the killer afternoon heat would have been torture.

"Stop complaining so much, you're the one who's wanted to go sight-seeing in the first place," Ranae shoots back at me, although the retort is less snarky this time.

"I know…" I straighten myself up just as the tram approaches.

We get on the tram, and I find instant relief in the relative coolness of the interior. I take a seat, and Ranae takes one opposite me. I glance up at the map and note that we're three stops away from Vessler Crossing – the entrance to the city's downtown district. The ride doesn't take as long as I expected it to before we pull into our destination. Ranae's already done with what I hope to be her last helping of callastas. The way she puts all that food away…that doesn't seem natural for someone of her size.

"Stop daydreaming, are we getting off here or what?" Ranae's chiding voice brings me back into the present.

"Oh…sorry. Just got carried away with the view," I apologize and step out from the tram.

_Woah_.

I just stand there awestruck, letting myself drown in the architectural marvel of the city. Since it's close to dusk now, every building has a clay-red tint to it and it seems to me that the spires of the buildings seem to get taller as they progress further into the city. I return my gaze to street level and note that the ground is constantly ascending as we walk further into the city. But that's not the most interesting feature about Thun. Peeking its way out from between buildings and sometimes intertwined with the buildings themselves, are small pockets of Zorya's tropical jungles. Shrubbery of the trees can be seen poking out among the lofty spires, and…are those waterfalls I see cascading down the sides of some buildings? I follow the path of the rushing waters into the river of aqueducts that snake their way all across street level.

"You done oogling at the city yet? We have to be back at the ship when the sun sets, remember?" she reminds me, her demeanor back to her usual disgruntled self.

"I'm coming!" I snap a shot off of the city's skyline on my omni-tool and promptly follow after her.

* * *

"Let me…just let me sit down for a bit," I pant, easing myself into a bench on one of the city's public parks. All that walking is finally starting to takes its toll on me. But for what it's worth, the stroll around the city was an interesting experience, even if Ranae's mood did put a damper on things while I was drinking in the sights and sounds.

Ranae just shakes her head disapprovingly. She leans against the railing that overlooks a small lake in the park and stares out into the distance. "We'll take five before heading back to the spaceport. We've really stayed out longer than we should have," she says without even a glance over her shoulder.

"Relax, Ranae. I told Uncle Leo and the rest about where we are. There's absolutely nothing to worry about," I reply, getting a little bit annoyed now at Ranae's grating attitude.

"Still, I would prefer it if we return to the ship before nightfall. It might not be safe out here at night," she continues.

Just what is she talking about? The city looks like safe enough; hell, it's a whole lot safer than what I've seen of Omega. At least there's a figure of authority here to enforce law and order, even if it's in the form of the Blue Suns.

"Geez, Ranae, just calm down already, we're fine! For once since I left Earth, nobody's been shooting at us so I'll take that as a good sign," I grit my teeth, fast losing my patience with Ranae ever since this whole day started.

"Well, you can never be too careful," she just calmly responds to me.

That's the last straw for me. "Tell me something, Ranae. Ever since we first met on Eden Prime, I get the feeling that you're not too happy with having to stick around me," I snap at her, letting all my bottled emotions free. "And yet, you don't think twice about having to risk your life to protect me when the bullets start flying. I just….for the life of me, I just can't figure you out! Just what is up with you?"

"I'm merely doing what mother has asked of me," she responds coolly without even the decency to turn around and face me.

That just gets me even more riled up. "If so, then how hard it would be for the two of to just get along? Wouldn't it make your job a whole lot easier that way?" I get up to my feet, raising my voice now. "I'm really trying here, Ranae. I really am but every single time I try to be friends, you just go ahead and shoot it down."

She remains silent, her back still turned to me.

"Great, now you're doing it again. What is it this time? Are you too afraid to tell me the truth?" I demand. "Well, answer me!" I reach a hand for her shoulder to turn her around.

The moment my hand makes contact; she swats it off and swivels around to face me. "So you want to know the truth? Is that it?" she hisses, her eyes starting to tear up. "Well then, here it is! I never wanted a life like this but mother insisted that I go through with it! So here I am, stuck carrying out mother's last wishes even if I absolutely despised every minute of it just because I know how much you mean to her!"

Her outburst catches me off guard and I just stand there, still reeling slightly from her confession. "That's right! You wanted the truth didn't you? Well, there it is! Are you happy now?" she continues, tears starting to streak down her face. The outburst must have been a long time coming as the dam of bottled-up emotions in her just comes crumbling down. "Mother had endured so much before you even came along but at least we had each other! We were happy together…until your father and you came along into our lives!"

"What? What have I ever done to screw your lives over? I've never even met you two before Eden Prime!" I counter, deeply offended by the allegation.

"Oh, don't you dare act like you don't know anything. The moment you show up on our doorsteps on Eden Prime, look what happened to mother! And if it wasn't because of the discovery that your father made, mother wouldn't have had to send me off to military camp to keep me safe! Do you know how much I've hated every single minute of my time there with the commandos?! I never even wanted to be there!" she hisses, voice full of bitterness and contempt. "You took everything that I've known away from mother and I! And the worst part of it was that mother was okay with it all!"

"So I'm the one to blame for everything that's wrong with your life?" I ask incredulously, my anger boiling at the sheer irrationality of the accusations. "Look Ranae, I don't know if you've noticed but I'm just in the same boat as you are! I never asked for this! Did you ever stop for a second to think if an unassuming 17 year-old boy from Earth would ever want to carry the burden of being the last hope for galactic civilization as we know it? Hell, who in their right minds would even want to be entrusted with such a responsibility?!" I yell, hoping to drill some rational sense into her flawed logic.

"I…I…" her eyes widen as she starts to acknowledge the truth behind my words. Now the tables have turned.

I just seize the opportunity to go on the offensive now. "And look, I'm sorry about what happened to your mother back on Eden Prime; I really am. But what happened there wasn't my fault or yours. How the hell could we have known that on top of the Broker's men trying to capture me, the geth would choose that of all time to attack the dig site?" I lower my voice now that I see Ranae faltering. "You might think I don't know what you're going through, but I do! Before all of this, I was dumb enough to think that I actually had a shot at living out a life as a normal kid. Graduating high school, going to college, finding a nice paying job and who knows, settling down one day with family. Learning that I'm this…this Prothean-human hybrid thing took all that away from me," I pause to let the words sink in. "So believe me, I _know _what you're going through right now, Ranae."

"But what your father did, I..." she incoherently trails off, her rage and anger losing its momentum as well.

"I can never apologize for what my father did to you two. Hell, even I'm still having trouble forgiving him for what he's done to Uncle Leo and I. But I'm sure he's just as sorry as I am for having dragged everyone into this mess."

She just looks on at me, utter despair filling the depths of her eyes while tears fall freely from her face. Finally, she collapses to her knees and just starts sobbing.

"Ranae, I didn't mean to…" I can't even bring myself to finish.

Seeing her so…_vulnerable _like that, all the anger and hatred that I had against her before just ebbs away. How could I possibly harbor such feelings against her when I went through the exact same thing? When you're angry at the world for putting you in this position, you just lash out against anything that you could just pin the blame on. But I had and still have Uncle Leo to fall back on when things got tough. As for Ranae, well, I realize that she doesn't have anyone, not with Aurania gone.

"Hey, everything's all going to be alright," I say solemnly, putting a reassuring hand on her arm. She doesn't budge. I hesitate and consider what would be my next course of action now. She's clearly upset and she could possibly be in a volatile mood, but it just breaks my heart to just stand around and not do anything. I wrap my arms around her, and noting that she doesn't do anything to resist, I decide to give her a small squeeze of comfort.

"Goddess…I just…I'm so sorry.." she sobs, leaning into me as I help support her.

"It's okay. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Come on, let's get going."

I lead the two of us back towards the spaceport; a journey the two of us are content to spend in silence. Throughout the journey, I never once let go of her and neither did she of me. We've both gotten a lot of baggage off of our chests and we've given each other a lot of things to think about. And for once, for both our sakes, I'm at least glad to hear the truth.

* * *

**A/N: And whew, was that emotionally-charged chapter a doozy to write on such a tight and packed schedule that I currently have right now. Still, I didn't want to disappoint you fans so I'm trying my best here to stick to the weekly update schedule. **

**Just like the previous chapter, we're getting some exposition here as to each character because awesome, well-developed characters are what make great stories work, right? But rest assured we'll be jumping right back into the thick of things with the next installment. **

**Well, I'll see you faithful readers next week! **


	27. Scoped and Dropped

**A/ N: Updates! And to think I couldn't pry myself away long enough from Bioshock: Infinite to write this chapter. Guess I proved myself wrong. **

**Once again, thanks to those who for taking the time to leave a review and comments on the previous chapter; I really appreciate them. I can at least rest easy and be happy with the knowledge that some people enjoy this little creative writing exercise of mine which I think is now starting to turn into a full-blown novel. **

**Anyways, the gang's journey will be getting back on track with this installment which will see them heading to Feros as they further unravel the mystery shrouding the Protheans and the Reapers. **

**Since it's been a while since I've touched the first game, my memory of Zhu's Hope's layout is a bit spotty. So don't expect my version of the environs to strictly adhere to the map in the first game as I'm going put a little bit of my own twist to it. **

**So sit back, relax and enjoy.**

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 26 – Scoped and Dropped

I bolt upright in bed, gasping for air. Glancing down, I realize I'm soaked from head to toe in cold sweat. I shake my head to clear the last vestiges of the dreams from my mind. It's the same damned visions of those Reapers again and no matter how many times I've dreamt of it, nothing will ever prepare me for the sheer horror and hopelessness that accompanies the nightmare.

"God damnit…."

I'm content to just sit there in bed as I try to nurse the pounding headache away. It's getting worse; I can tell. I never used to have migraines this bad whenever I awake from those visions. But they seem to be occurring more intensely ever since my encounter with the beacon back on Eden Prime. Could this be an omen of things to come? Could the Reapers finally be here?

I shake those disturbing thoughts out of my head. Judging from what little I'm able to piece together of my dreams, I think I'm viewing the galactic annihilation of my civilization from the perspective of a Prothean. From what I'm able to make of it, the Reapers aren't ones to show mercy. There's no telling what the Reapers would do to us when they finally arrive.

"Shit…" I groan aloud as the pain threatens to split my head open. I grab the bottle of aspirins that I keep on my bedside table for such an occasion and swallow two of the capsules. For good measure, I also take a tablet of sedative that should help me fall asleep again. Given my familiarity with these episodes, if I awake in the middle of the night due to these visions, I won't be able to fall asleep again until daybreak. So instead of shambling around like a sleep-deprived zombie all day, I figured it'd be best that I at least drug myself into catching some shut eye.

I change into a fresh new pair of sleepwear before lying back into bed again. I close my eyes and let the medication work its magic. Before long, I drift off into an uneasy but dreamless slumber.

_I should really tell Dad about how bad these dreams are getting._

* * *

"Alright, we should be landing on Feros any minute now," Uncle Leo's voice rings out from the cockpit.

"Zhu's Hope control, requesting docking clearance," Dad tries hailing the colony's air control from where he's seated in the co-pilot seat. "I repeat, this is the Vanguard, registry number AOR-130L requesting docking clearance."

The rest of us, with the exception of Ralak who's down in hangar bay alone again, are gathered in the living room. Nazreil and I are totally immersed in this new video game that he got from his quarian friends back on Zorya. It's an older title of the Grim Terminus Alliance series which I've never played before but that doesn't stop it from being one hell of a fun game. Without any extranet connections, the two of us are just content on playing co-op through the story campaign. Ranae and Aunt Lynn watch on as carnage and mayhem unfolds on our screen.

"You know, that's not exactly what I'd call a stealthy approach," Aunt Lynn remarks as my human avatar character alerts the entire casino building to our presence. It didn't help that the mission was supposed to be a stealthy and subtle casino heist.

"Keelah! Now we've got to shoot our way out!" Nazreil exclaims exasperatedly. He navigates his quarian avatar into the shadows where he remains out of sight.

"Sorry, sorry! My bad, my bad!" I apologize, as I fumble with the controls to get my avatar behind cover.

Ranae just looks on quizzically at the chaos and explosions on the holoscreen. "I really don't see why you two boys can get so riled up about this. It _is_ only a game, after all."

"I'd be happy to explain this to you but can it wait? We're so close to clearing this level!" I don't even take my eyes off the screen as I concentrate on manipulating my controls to toss a grenade, hack the exit doors open and revive Nazreil's avatar to his feet, all in one fluid motion.

"Watch out, grenade!" the quarian yells as the familiar grenade warning icon ticks away on both our screens.

_**BOOM.**_

The entire ship shudders violently, causing all of us to lose our balance.

"What the hell _was _that?" I struggle to get back into a sitting position.

"That definitely wasn't the grenade…" Nazreil chimes in.

"We've got company!" comes Uncle Leo's surprised voice from the cockpit.

Aunt Lynn stumbles over to the cockpit. "Nick, what the hell is going on?!"

"We're taking fire on our six!" Dad's stares intently at the radar display. "Dear Lord, we've got a geth dropship on our tail!"

"What? Geth? What in goddesses' name are they doing out here in a remote place like this?" Ranae gets to her feet.

"Your guess is as good as mine!" Dad replies.

I rush over to the viewport and glance outside. True enough, skimming the top of the clouds and right on our heels is a starship reminiscent of the ones I saw during the geth attack back on Eden Prime. The hornet-like dropship directs a volley of fire at the Vanguard. Uncle Leo banks a hard right at the very last moment, missing the brunt of the salvo. Several of the shots still manage to find its mark however, and the resulting blast throws me off my feet.

"I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but in case somebody hasn't noticed, somebody is shooting at us!" Ralak emerges from the stairwell, looking more annoyed than concerned.

I clamber onto my feet, no small feat given how violently the Vanguard is shaking with her damaged engines. Nazreil is still stuck in his original position on the couch, frozen with fear.

"Leonus, you'd better land this ship down ASAP. I don't think she's gonna be able to take any more hits from that thing!" Aunt Lynn exclaims. "For fuck's sakes, does this thing even have armor?!"

"I know, I know!" Uncle Leo yells in frustration as his talons fly all over the controls. The ship makes a few more sharp banks and turns, narrowly dodging the lone spires that protrude out from the clouds, as he pilots the Vanguard back to the colony's docking station.

The ship endures a few more narrow misses from the dropship and I can even see the dropship's projectiles streaking across the viewport windows. The Vanguard's engines start whining violently with the exertion of the evasive maneuvers that Uncle Leo's putting the ship through and the sound is definitely starting to become a cause for alarm.

"Somebody get down there and check on the engines!" Dad yells, fear and concern clearly evident in his voice.

"Nazreil!" I yell, but he doesn't hear me. "Nazreil, snap out of it!" It takes a good shake to bring him out of his catatonic state.

"Y-Yes?" his voice sounds strained as he tries to speak.

"Come on, we need you down in the engine deck! I don't think the ship's engine is gonna hold out much longer!"

He looks at me blankly for a moment before nodding. The two of us clamber down the stairwell with Aunt Lynn and Ranae bringing up the rear.

_Holy shit. _The engine deck's a mess. The engine's caught fire and it's starting to spread rapidly all over the place. Sparks are flying out of various mechanical contraptions and the billowing smoke threatens to choke the entire room.

"Put those fires out now!" Aunt Lynn tosses a fire extinguisher to me which I promptly grab. I turn on the nozzle and spray a jet of the coolant on the fires. "You there, check on the engines and drive core once we've gotten the fires under control!" Aunt Lynn points at Nazreil.

"Why aren't the fire retardant systems activating yet?" Ranae grunts with the effort.

"Don't know but now's not the time to be worrying about it!" I wipe the beads of sweat off my brow. The heat in the limited confines of the engineering deck is starting to become unbearable.

The three of us extinguish a clear path through the flames for Nazreil; a tall order seeing that we can barely stand on our feet thanks to the violent swaying of the ship. The inertia dampeners must have taken a hit too. He opens the engineering terminal and inspects the read-out. It takes him somewhat longer than usual to spring into action. But as soon as he finds the trouble, he scrambles over to the damaged component and gets to work on performing the necessary repairs. There's little hesitation in his movements and seeing him work under these conditions is surreal.

"I can fix this but somebody needs to put out all the fires! The excess heat is throwing off the damaged thermoregulators for both the engine and drive core!"

"Copy that! You heard the man, get to it!" Aunt Lynn barks as she tries getting the blaze under control.

By the time he's done, the fires are all but put out. As soon as the last ember is extinguished, the engines and drive core power down. We exchange looks with each other, unsure of what this latest development would mean. Anxious, we all scramble upstairs.

"Uncle Leo, Dad! What's going on this time?"

I see Uncle Leo slumped back against his seat, breathing a sigh of relief. Dad's expression mirrors that of the turian and I can see why: we've finally managed to dock the ship. Dad checks the rear view display. The docking hatch has been sealed behind us. "It doesn't seem like the dropship's coming after us in here," he mutters. He switches to the radar and his face pales at the read-out. "It's dropping ground units at the colony's outpost."

Upon hearing this, I make a move for the airlock doors only to be stopped by a hand on the shoulder.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" the hand belongs to Aunt Lynn.

"What does it look like?" I look at her in disbelief. "The colonists are going to need help fending the geth off!"

"Oh no you don't; you're sticking right here where it's safe, young man," Aunt Lynn coolly orders. "This isn't our fight, so we're staying the hell away from it."

I start to feel anger building up inside of me at the sheer selfishness of her words. "What the hell do you mean? There's going to be plenty of dead bodies out there if we don't help!"

"And we can't risk you being one of them," Dad speaks up. "Listen to your aunt, she's right."

"But – "

"Nate does have a point," Ranae interjects. I let out a small sigh of relief to see that I'm not the only one who cares for the colonists' well-being. Seeing somebody take my side for once strengthens my resolve. "If the geth wipe out the colonists, then they're coming for us next. After all, they know we've docked here. At least we'll have better odds helping the colonists fend off the geth."

"The asari's right. The colonists' numbers and firepower could be what we need to send those geth running home," Ralak points out.

Uncle Leo looks over to Dad and nods. "Hate to say it, pal, but I've got to agree with them."

"Leonus, you've got to be joking right?" Dad asks incredulously. "Lynn, you're with me on this aren't you? Tell them what a horrible idea this is!"

"If we're taking into account the short-term implications and Nate's well-being here, then yes, it's the worse fucking idea ever. But if the geth mow the colony down and come looking for us in here, we're sitting ducks," she shrugs.

"And if the geth have the colony surrounded, I doubt if we'll be able to break through their ranks to get to the ruins below," Ranae raises another valid point.

"If we're all done arguing, then it's decided. Everyone, gear up! It's time to show the geth that nobody messes with my ship," Uncle Leo growls. If it isn't for the gravity of the situation, I'd face palm at the turian's cheesy action-movie quote.

"I'm coming too!" I say resolutely.

"Only if you hang back and keep your head down!" Dad warns me. "And that the two of us stick together at all times, understood?"

"Yeah, okay, fine whatever," I nod. "Let's get going; there's lives at stake here!" I turn to Nazreil, remembering that the poor guy is scared shitless of the geth, at least for reasons unknown. I feel a pang of guilt at having never asked him about it. "You sure you're okay going out there?"

"I-I'll be fine. And besides, I won't be out there fighting them alone," he reassures me, although not very convincingly. "We started this mess with the geth, so it's our job to fix it," he mutters cryptically. I make a mental note of those words to bring it up again when the time's right.

Ralak slams his fists together. "The geth are going to have another thing coming if they're just expecting regular colonists. That'll teach them to piss me off ."

Within minutes, all seven of us are out the airlock door and armed to the teeth. Uncle Leo and Aunt Lynn lead the group and we make our way along the docking bays to the main settlement of Zhu's Hope. The whole place just gives off an eerie vibe. Almost a millenia's worth of neglect and abandonment have done little to negatively affect the Prothean skyscraper's integrity. It almost feels as though the whole ruins have been frozen in time; its walls caked with grime and dirt but otherwise intact. The fact that the ruins stand as a remnant that signifies a once-great civilization's downfall only makes the place all the more unsettling.

I stop dwelling on the past and focus on the sounds of the present conflict raging ahead of us. We're still a ways away but already we can hear the echoes of the chaos and gunfire.

"Remember, no matter what happens, don't break ranks!" Aunt Lynn barks out, clad in full armor. "Leonus and I will take point!" I'm beginning to second-guess the rationale of that call seeing as Uncle Leo doesn't exactly have a full set of armor like Aunt Lynn's; but I'll just have to trust those two since they've got the most combat experience out of all of us.

I notice that everyone's all armed with shotguns and assault rifles whereas I'm stuck with my measly pistol. I just can't help but wonder if I should at least have some extra firepower for the firefight that we're about to dive head first into. I doubt if a pistol's going to do much damage at all.

Our party reaches a stairwell and takes the stairs two at a time, fast approaching the outpost, judging by the sounds of the firefight. Once we arrive on the second level landing, we burst out of the doorway…and onto the scene of an intense battle raging between the colonists and geth.

"Find cover, MOVE!" Aunt Lynn makes a mad dash for the nearest structure, keeping her head low to avoid the oncoming bullets.

The rest of us follow suit but I manage to make out a bit of the battlefield on my periphery. The whole place looks like something of an ancient hangar bay. What looks to be the various modules of a downed freighter vessel are scattered throughout the bay in which most of the colonists are taking cover in. Huge chunks of rubble are strewn all over the ground where several other colonists cower behind. Beyond the outpost, in the somewhat open expanse, are the geth who are rapidly advancing on the settlement. They're pouring out of a doorway at the far end of the outpost while the dropship sends more dropping in through the holes in the skylight above.

"What's the situation with the geth?" Uncle Leo approaches the nearest colonist he's able to lay his eyes on.

The colonist responds with wide-eyed shock at our arrival. "Who are you people? What are you doing here?!"

"Introductions can wait, but all you need to know is that we're here to help! How're things looking on your side?"

"I-I…talk to Fai Dan, he'll be able to tell you more," the colonist mumbles somewhat incoherently.

"Damn it! We don't have time for this, Leonus!" Aunt Lynn leans out of the edge of the doorway she's taken cover behind and squeezes several bursts off her assault rifle.

"David, who are these people?" A woman clad in armor rushes into the unit.

"Arcelia, I –"

Arcelia cuts him off. "Don't they know that we're in the middle of a warzone right now?! We must protect the heart of the colony at all costs!" She sizes our party up, looking us over.

"You look like someone in charge. What's the sitrep on the geth?" Uncle Leo repeats himself impatiently.

Satisfied that we're at least friendlies, her demeanor relaxes, although not by much. "They're coming in from the tower and dropping in all around us. We're centering our defenses on the downed freighter that we're in right now but from the looks of it, we're outnumbered and outgunned," she states. Her eyes light up upon seeing the firepower we're toting around. "We don't normally trust strangers but the seven of you could be just what we need to turn this around."

"Just tell us who and what to shoot," Ralak grunts, itching for a fight. "We'll take care of the rest."

"We'll need some men to hang back and shore up the defenses on the western perimeter. Make sure nothing gets past you guys."

Aunt Lynn motions to Dad, me and Nazreil. "That sounds like a job for the three of you."

"Ralak and I will lay down some suppressing fire and give you guys cover from here," Uncle Leo volunteers.

"You and the asari look like you can wreak some serious damage. I'll need you two to double back around this ship and flank the geth from their side. Think you can handle that?" the woman points to Ranae and Aunt Lynn.

"Eh, I've done worse." Aunt Lynn turns to Ranae, "You ready to do this, sunshine?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Ranae nods.

"Good, now let's give them hell!" Aunt Lynn cries out spiritedly before disappearing out of the ship with Ranae in tow. The three of us make a beeline for the western perimeter which is another module of the freighter vessel that's split apart from its main hull. We huddle up inside the module and keep our heads low against the incoming barrage of bullets. We're a ways back but we've got somewhat of an elevated view of the tower entrance in the distance and a clear line of shot.

"This should come in handy," Dad scoops up a sniper rifle that rests on the lap of one of the dead colonists. "Haven't used these in ages."

I almost retch at the sight of the bloodied corpse but thankfully, I manage to hold it in. It takes me all of my willpower to turn away from the gruesome body and concentrate on the task at hand. I have my pistol firmly gripped and I peer over the edge of the module's shattered viewport. The geth are pouring in by the numbers and we need to do something quick if we want to stop them from overwhelming us.

"Nate, catch!" I swivel around and see Nazreil tossing something metallic over to me. I catch it in my hands and it unfolds itself into a sniper rifle, just like the one that Dad's holding. "It's a Striker Mark IV. It's a bolt-action so you'll need to prime the mass effect accelerator after each shot."

"I know, I've seen this before in the Code of Honor games," I say, inspecting the weapon. Finally, some extra firepower!

"Doesn't mean you know how to fire one in real life," Dad remarks, training his eyes on a target through the scope.

"Guess I'll have to learn fast."

From my crouched position, I heft the weapon onto my shoulder and lean into the stock. The thing's a lot heavier than I thought it would be, and the weight's causing me to sway it a lot, especially when I'm looking down the sights. _Hoo boy, this isn't going to be easy._

"You sure you know how to use one? I don't need you shooting yourself in the foot now," Dad asks worriedly. "I can run you through the basics –" A salvo of assault rifle and shotgun fire erupts from the module that Uncle Leo and Ralak's in, catching Dad's attention. "Damn it, they're starting the counterattack. That's probably going to bring a lot of the geth down on them. We need to help thin their ranks out," he motions back to my rifle, "But it's no different from firing a pistol. Just lean into the stock, choose your target, center them in the crosshair and ride out the recoil. Simple." To illustrate his point, Dad squeezes the trigger, causing a reverberating blast which nails one of the geth troopers right in the head. Dad ducks right back into cover again as bullets start whittling all around us.

"Great shot, Mr. Sunderland," Nazreil whistles lowly.

"Damn…"

I seize a small lull in fire and hoist the rifle up to peer down the sights again. I line one of the troopers in the center of the crosshair and pull the trigger. The rifle goes off with a deafening roar. I wasn't expecting the recoil as the rifle kicks back into my shoulder, throwing me off-balance. I barely make it back behind cover before the bullets ricochet off the walls behind me. No matter how many times I find myself in a firefight, I can never get accustomed to those invisible barrages of death flying all around me. It's a frightening thought to know that you're going to be dead before you even see it coming, if you just stand out there in the open.

"Good try but no dice," Dad remarks.

I grunt with effort as I struggle to pull back the bolt. My clammy hands compounded with the chaos of the firefight aren't exactly doing me any favors with reloading the weapon either. It's still a bit of a transition for me to hardwire my reflexes to duck back behind cover whenever I have to reload or lay down some suppressing fire.

"Got it!" I lean out again, and repeat the motion. This time, I manage to clip one of the geth in the arm, sending it spiraling to the ground.

"You're learning fast, but not fast enough," Dad mutters grimly. I see what he's getting at. The geth are mere feet away from the entrance to the outpost and more of them seem to be pouring in. Realizing the lack of cover in the expanse, they've deployed what looks to be a shielding barrier in front of each unit.

"Keelah, how many more of them are there?!" Nazreil exclaims, his voice trembling, as does his grip on his assault rifle.

The barrage from the main hull whittles their shields down and manages to take a few of them out but at this rate, they're going to swarm us with sheer numbers. I squeeze off a few more shots from my rifle but sheer desperation and panic sends most of them flying wide. Even Dad's aim is starting to falter. I pop out of cover again and line up another shot, and catch sight of Ranae and Aunt Lynn emerging around the ship by the geth's left flank.

Aunt Lynn tosses a grenade into their ranks and before the geth realize it, it's too late. The resulting explosion sends bits and pieces of synthetic limbs flying into the air. Ranae capitalizes on the initial blast by throwing a shockwave into the mix, further messing up the geth's ordered ranks and formation. They halt their initial advance and turn their attention to their latest threat, exposing their flanks to the colonists in the freighter's main hull.

"Fire at will!" I hear Uncle Leo yelling. Muzzle flares light up alongside the entire hull, spewing a deadly wall of bullets at the geth. More and more go down in a froth of white synthetic fluid but they manage to instantly recoup. Those units on the front lines direct their shields against the onslaught of bullets from all three sides while those in the rear continue firing at us.

"Why won't they just go down!?" I grit my teeth, pulling back the bolt for what feels like the umpteenth time as I squeeze off another shot. With adrenaline surging through me, the passage of time blurs. But as the battle starts dragging out, I can finally feel it tipping in our favor.

The geth eventually drop one by one under our combined crossfire until there are five of them left. By then, Ralak's already charging out of the freighter vessel towards their ranks. Ranae biotically lifts one up which Aunt Lynn promptly riddles with bullets from her weapon. Dad takes another one down while Nazreil overloads the circuits of one which leaves Ralak to take care of the remaining two. Right after crushing the skull of one unit with his foot, the krogan shifts his attention to the last one. But a shot rings out and nails it right in the chest. He glares in the direction of the shooter.

"And that was a clutch kill!" I whoop, resting the rifle over my shoulder as I admire my handiwork. "Not too shabby for my first time." Ralak only glares daggers at me but I'm too pumped up with the adrenaline and the euphoria of our victory to pay him much mind.

As the dust clears, all of us converge right outside the freighter's main hull. The seven of us huddle close together in the crowd as we look on at a man, presumably the colony's leader, standing with Arcelia in front of the ship.

"I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your sacrifice! For without your fearless deeds, the heart of the colony would truly have been lost today!" the man charismatically and calmly addresses the crowd. "But now's not the time to grieve our losses. We need to recoup, rebuild and be ready to defend the heart of the colony once more!"

I exchange a questioning look with Uncle Leo. "What's with all this heart of the colony business?"

He shrugs, his breathing still heavy from the heat of the battle. "Don't know. Maybe it's a figure of speech or something?"

"That was but their first wave of troops; the geth will be back for more, I'm sure of it!" he continues. "Now, let's collect our dead and fortify ourselves for the next attack! Their burials can wait. Dismissed!"

The crowd disperses almost immediately, each one of them moving in unison with the other as if belonging to one collective unit. I raise my eyebrow at this peculiarity. "Anybody else thinks the people here are acting weird?"

"It's only to be expected. Isn't this how you humans cope with traumatic experiences? After all, they _have _just survived a geth attack on their colony," Ranae replies, although she does raise a fair point.

"Come on, let's get going," Dad urges. "I don't want to have to stick around until the next wave of geth shows up."

"Agreed. Ranae, Nazreil and I will stay behind to guard the ship and make the necessary repairs. No point in fending off the geth if we don't have a way out of this place," Uncle Leo orders. "The rest of you will accompany Nate and Nick to see if you guys can find the Prothean archives that Nick's been talking about." I swear I could have seen Ralak giving Uncle Leo a small nod of gratitude. Whatever happened between those two?

"Copy that, Leonus," Aunt Lynn signals for us to move out. We part ways as the four of us make our way into the outpost while the rest heads back to the Vanguard. "What's the quickest way to get around the ruins here?" she stops a random colonist and questions him.

The colonist looks at her weirdly, his entire expression aloof, but he responds after a short pause. "Skybridges. There's a garage on the top of the tower which connects to them," he points in the direction of the tower that the geth were once streaming out of. "There should still be several vehicles in there."

"Okay…." The colonist turns to leave. "Anyways, thanks for the directions," Aunt Lynn adds. "Well, that solves the issue of having to find a ride."

We blend into the flurry of activity in the outpost and discreetly make our way towards the tower entrance without drawing too much attention from the colonists. Hell, I don't think they're even going to notice we're gone.

"Yeah, but where are we even going to start looking for these so-called archives if they even do exist?" I collapse my newly-acquired sniper rifle. Fortunately, Nazreil managed to fashion a strap for the rifle so I shoulder the weapon on my back, seeing as I don't have those magnetic strips on my back where you can clip the weapon onto.

"Don't you worry about that, Nate. I've done my research of the ruins and I think I've managed to narrow down the potential location of the archives," Dad assures me as we cautiously ascend the tower to the garage. Aunt Lynn and Ralak still have their weapons out and are sweeping the area ahead for any remaining geth units. I draw my pistol and lightly cradle it just in case the geth get the jump on us.

We emerge into the garage and the absence of geth is a welcomed respite. Two vehicles sit in the garage, a Mako like the one I've ridden in back on Noveria and another tank-like vehicle that I don't really recognize.

"A VT7 Grizzly? Well I'll be damned, I thought I'd never see one of these things again," Aunt Lynn exclaims excitedly. "We're definitely taking this one! And look, the control systems aren't locked either!" she says as she inspects the driver's compartment.

"There'd better be more room in that thing. I'm sick of riding in that cramped Mako," Ralak mutters dryly.

"Wait, they're just going to let us take this?" I ask, feeling somewhat guilty for taking the vehicle without anybody's permission.

"With just how weirdly those colonists' have been acting, I don't think they're even going to notice," Aunt Lynn replies. "Now come on, those geth are going to be sitting on their asses waiting for us to find the archives!"

The four of us pile into the Grizzly and set off for the skybridge. This day could not possibly get any worse right? First the geth attack and who knows what next? If I had the power of foresight right now, I should have just kept my mouth shut instead of tempting fate.

* * *

**A/N: And I'm sorry for the delay in getting this chapter posted up. I was planning to get it done sometime over the weekend but a hectic weekend schedule and my own personal obsessive compulsiveness to perfect the chapter got in the way. **

**Anyways, all that matters now is that I have the chapter up! So, thanks for bearing with me. So as for those of you who've played through the games would know that Nate's gonna be crossing paths once again with Shepard. But don't worry though, Nate's gang won't always be shadowing the Commander; they'll also go to places on their own as the story gets into its third act which we're still a ways away from. Sorry if this chapter feels a little rushed. **

**Once again, thanks for taking the time to read. Hope you enjoyed where Nate's latest escapades are taking them to and I'll see you guys and gals next week, hopefully with an update over the weekend. **


	28. Better Left Buried

**A/ N: Don't worry, I won't spoil anything so…anybody else think that Bioshock Infinite had one of the most mind-blowing and poignant ending ever? It's been several days since I've finished the game and yet, I'm still replaying and picking over the scenes in my head. Now that, in my opinion, is what constitutes good writing – a thoroughly satisfying end to such an intricately-constructed tale that just gets worms its way into your head. **

**With my ravings of the game aside, let's get back to the real reason of why you're all here. Anyways, last chapter started the Feros arc of the story and so, expect it to last for a good few chapters as the story really starts kicking into high gear in this arc. Also, this arc would also explore my take on fleshing out the history of the Prothean ruins on Feros. **

**Once again, thanks for the reviews, the favorites and the subscriptions. It just makes my day a little better when I find out that people are enjoying this story as much as I am writing it. Without further ado, let's get on with the show!**

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**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 27 – Better Left Buried

The silence down here is overwhelming. Even the falling of a loose rock from the rubble can be heard echoing far away into the distance. Wilkins realizes just how much of a far cry the lower levels of the ruins are from the lofty heights of Zhu's Hope's spaceport. Hardly any light from above is able to breach through the cloud of dust that persists in the air – it's thick enough to warrant the use of a rebreather which he currently has on. What must once be grand structures and bustling thoroughfares are but dilapidated remnants of their former selves: crumbling walls, fallen pillars and rubble littered every available expanse of the thoroughfare, leaving little room for Wilkins to properly tread on.

Despite that, he can still see the majesty of Prothean architecture peeking through in the form of defunct yet advanced technological contraptions that surpassed anything within this life cycle. Unfortunately, looters have picked over their internal circuitry clean; there's nothing left to them but their empty husks. The sight is made all the more unsettling when contrasted with the ruin and decay that lies around them.

_Just how the hell did the most technologically-advanced race in the galaxy just up and disappear like that? _

Even for a man conditioned to manage his fears, Wilkins shudders at the thought as he navigates his way further into the ruins, each step bringing him closer to his destination, or so he would hope. He brings up a real-time read-out of the ruins' layout, noting his position and the coordinates contained in the data packet that Matriarch Benezia handed to him back on Noveria. By his estimate, he's only less than a half mile away but blocked paths and non-existent routes has consistently forced him to backtrack in order to find an alternative route. And it has proven to be a time-consuming affair.

After all, it's been almost two days since he's landed on this planet and sifted through the rubble with nothing to show for it. It didn't help that his coming here was informed partly out of desperation now that his trail on the kid has gone cold. Somehow, he finds himself hoping that whatever Matriarch Benezia had instructed him to find here would yield a vital piece of information that could somehow lead to the kid's capture – information that the Broker's clearly withholding from him.

"Sir, is everything okay down there?" his earpiece crackles to life.

It's from his assistant, Tara who's currently waiting for him up top where the skybridge is. He's only brought two of his operatives with him: Tara, his assistant and Tobias, the latter currently guarding their starship back on Zhu's Hope as reprimand for his rash actions in capturing the target back on the Citadel. He's led them both here under the guise that the Broker has direct orders for his team to investigate the Prothean ruins on Feros. Even then, Wilkins insists on exploring the ruins alone. At least it'll save him having to explain whatever it is that he finds down here and how it would factor into their original objective to retrieve the kid.

"Anything worth reporting?"

"I'm picking up some signs of disturbances at the outpost," comes the static-filled reply.

The Serrice Council communications set is the best that money can buy out on the market; promising top-quality voice communications at all ranges and even under the harshest of environmental conditions. Despite that assurance, it's barely able to filter out the static in the channel between Wilkins and Tara. This only confirms Wilkins's gut feeling that there's more than meets the eye in these ruins.

"Disturbances? What do you mean?"

"It's far too distant for me to tell, sir. But the long-range scanner on the Mako is picking up plenty of activity and heat signatures at the outpost," Tara explains. "And there's no comm. traffic coming over Tobias's channel either."

"Copy that. Keep your eyes peeled and keep me updated."

"Yes sir."

The line goes dead as Tara disconnects the communications channel, leaving Wilkins alone again in the tomb-like silence. He reaches for his shotgun clipped onto the back of his light body armor. Either the ruins are playing tricks on his mind or that something terrible lies in wait for him down here. The reassuring weight of his shotgun holds the fear at bay…but for how long?

He reads the map again, crouching under a fallen pillar. The map updates his current location as well as the path that he'll need to backtrack to get to the elevator shaft that'll take him above.

_This can't be right._

Wilkins looks around at his surroundings. He's standing in what he assumes must once be a beautiful courtyard. The regal and official-looking structure in front of the courtyard, just like the rest of the ruins, is dilapidated and overgrown. He triangulates his map again but there isn't any mistake. He's standing right on top of the coordinates that Matriarch Benezia has given to him. But all he sees is rubble and more rubble.

_There must be a mistake. There has to be! _

Years of training and hard-wired reflexes kick in to ward off the impending panic. Wilkins consciously forces himself to take a deep breath and analyze the circumstances at hand. Either the coordinates are suspect or there's something here that he's not seeing. There's no feasible way to validate the coordinates so that leaves him no choice but to closely inspect the surroundings. Furthermore, he doubts if an esteemed figure of authority like a Matriarch would just lead him all the way out here on a wild goose chase for her own amusement.

Wilkins starts by making his way along the fringes of the courtyard, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He slowly and methodically combs the area with his omni-tool. True enough, his omni-tool gives off faint energy readings which climb in intensity as he approaches the center of the courtyard.

_Bingo._

So the coordinates aren't suspect after all. There _is _something here; but whatever it is, it must be buried beneath the courtyard. Wilkins sets off again in search of a route that would take him below. He tries the building nearest to the courtyard but rubble has all but buried the main entrance. There isn't any other entrance into the structure either. So Wilkins abandons his attempt and tries elsewhere.

An hour later and his efforts have yet to produce any results. He's starting to get flustered now. He sits atop the rubble in the courtyard and considers his next course of action. He opens up his communications channel to Tara.

"Tara, do you copy?"

"Roger that, sir. What is it?"

Wilkins carefully chooses his words. "There's a sealed doorway between me and the coordinates in the data packet that I received from the…Broker." He catches his own lie just in time. Nobody else knows about his meeting with Matriarch Benezia on Noveria and he's intent on keeping it that way. "I want you to sift through it again to see if there's anything in there that resembles an authorization code," Wilkins can hear the frustration coloring his voice.

"One moment, sir," there's a pause as Tara goes over the packet's contents. It's a good thing that he brought her along too; she's second to none over the salarians when it comes to data analysis. And the fact that she knows better than to ask questions is also a plus. "There's nothing in here that looks remotely like one, sir."

Wilkins's heart drops. He has not come this far only to be stopped by a blocked pathway that separates him from his destination. If it comes down to it, he'll have to dig his bloody way down through the courtyard.

"…but I seem to have noticed several corrupted file fragments in the data packet. Or at least, I think it's corrupted. Hold on, sir," Tara adds. His heart skips a small beat and he rises to his feet. Tense seconds go by before her voice speaks in his earpiece again. "I've ran it through a data restorer and it doesn't even recognize the type of file corruption that's afflicting the fragments."

The silence from Wilkins is all that Tara needs to continue on. "Meaning that it's not a corrupted file at all. If I had to make a guess, these are a type of data file that doesn't exist at all, or that they're from a time preceding our galactic cycle."

Wilkins pieces the dots together. "I think we've just found our access codes." He shuts off the channel.

He brings up the copy of the data packet on his omni-tool and highlights the corrupted data fragments. He raises his omni-tool above his head and projects it outward. For a moment, nothing occurs to break the deafening silence all around him. He walks towards the center of the courtyard where the energy readings are highest.

_For the love of God…._

Then, he feels the ground rumbling ever so slightly, a deep noise that reverberates all across the ruins. He raises his shotgun; ready to take on whatever threats that might spring out of the darkness. Through the dim light of the ruins, Wilkins manages to make out an opening in the courtyard floor as the floor folds back in on itself, revealing a flight of stairs that will take him to the depths below.

"Finally," he grins, pleased with the discovery.

He carefully traverses his way down below and the stairs ends at an underground path that leads off further into the darkness. The walls are smooth and barren, possessing an almost synthetic feel to them. The rational part of his mind immediately regrets the decision as a foreboding aura sweeps over every fiber of his being. Somehow, he finds himself pushing onwards, the pathway ahead illuminated only by the beam of light from his omni-tool. The pathway opens up to a larger room where it ends.

_So this is where the energy readings are highest. _

Just as Wilkins makes a move to illuminate the place, the room comes to life. Blue lights pulse on various pieces of machineries and a low synthetic hum fill the confines of the room. At the center of the room, a sphere of pulsing blue energy materializes into existence and lies suspended atop the four arms of a device clearly not made by man.

"What the…?"

Wilkins shields his eyes at the brightness of the orb that cast an eerier blue glow over the entire room. Yet, he finds that he's unable to keep his gaze off the glowing sphere. He stands there; attention rapt as he stares into the depths of the orbs. He feels it pulling every part of his being in and for once, he's content to allow it. Enraptured by the sight, he pays little attention even as he hears someone or something whispering inaudible words within his head. Then, intermittent images flash across his mind's eye.

First, he sees the gaping maw of some colossal squid-like starship closing in on him, then fleeting visions of entire civilizations razed to the ground. This is followed up by a series of images depicting several sentient beings placing the device in the room where it currently resides; then, a bird's eye view of the Prothean megalopolis in Feros in its golden ages before being replaced by the exact same ruins in its current state of decay and dilapidation.

The visions abruptly end, the intensity of the experience causing Wilkins to wobble unsteadily on his feet. As the orb of energy flickers out of being, so too do the machines and the voices in his head.

_What the fuck was that? Is this what Matriarch Benezia intended for me to see?_

He blinks a couple of time to get his bearings and Wilkins realizes that he's covered from head to toe in goosebumps and that he's laboring for breath. Throughout his entire life, he has never before felt raw, cold fear of such magnitude.

"Sir, do you copy?" Tara's worried voice rings in his earpiece. Wilkins seizes upon her voice in order to quell the rising panic and fear.

"Y-yes?" he manages to muster an acknowledgement.

"Remember the disturbances I've told you about?"

"Yeah, what of it?" it takes Wilkins all of his effort to keep an even voice.

"It's the geth, sir. I've visually confirmed their presence on the skybridges. Tobias hasn't responded on any of our comm. channels either."

A moment of déjà vu washes over Wilkins and suddenly, something clicks. The geth have never been spotted outside of the Perseus Veil until their sudden attack on Eden Prime. And the assault was led by none other than the one and only…

"Saren Arterius," Wilkins mutters under his breath.

What are the odds that the turian also be the one behind this attack? After all, the similarities are there: what could the geth and the Spectre stand to gain from an attack on an insignificant colony in a backwater garden world like Feros? But the more pressing question on Wilkins's mind is of why Saren's using him as an unwitting pawn in the turian's schemes. Somehow, he can't help but suspect that Saren has everything as much to do with the visions Wilkins's just experienced as the attack. Here's his chance to find out.

"Stay put, Tara. I'm coming topside right now. And for the love of God, get Tobias to report in stat."

* * *

The Grizzly rolls to a stop within one of the large archways of the tower and the four of us pour out of the vehicle. Ralak stumbles awkwardly out and leans back to stretch.

"I get the feeling that none of these vehicles come in krogan sizes," he remarks.

"What do you expect? Seven foot tall human soldiers built like a tank aren't exactly a common sight in the Alliance, you know," Aunt Lynn gives Ralak a joking pat on the back. "Now suck it up and let's get going."

Ralak grunts amusedly as he joins us in entering one of the doorways that lead into the tower. Ever since we touched down on Zhu's Hope, a peculiar feeling of familiarity starts manifesting within me, much like the time when we were on Eden Prime. A sense that I can only describe as déjà vu flits around me, as if somehow suggesting that I've been here before but I don't remember it.

"So what makes you so sure that this is where the archives are located?" I ask.

We stand around what looks like an elevator shaft, except that the entire elevator car is missing. All that's left is one steep drop to the bottom where I see a shaft of light emanating from the lower levels.

"The Protheans were really methodical when it came to building their cities. Each one of them adhered to an established schematic and model that dictates what and where each city bloc should be built," Dad explains. "Research on other Prothean ruins scattered across the galaxy have come to the same conclusion. Each bloc, whether they be administrative blocs or residential blocs are located in certain quadrants of a city and each are distinguished by their structure's characteristic."

"So which bloc would the archives be located in then?"

"It should be in the administrative bloc which we're in right now and they're usually located adjacent to the structure that houses the main seat of government on the planet," Dad points out the archway to a huge, official-looking structure in the distance which I assume must be the main government building. "Cross-checking the layout of the ruins with their city model narrows the archives down to this building."

"Wow Dad, you sure do know a lot about the Protheans," I remark.

"Hopefully enough to stop the Reapers from wiping us out," he replies grimly. "The elevator's a no go so it looks like we'll need to find another way down."

"There's gotta be a service stairwell around here or something," Aunt Lynn looks around the square room that we're in right now. Several slabs of withered rock dot the room but apart from that, the room is barren. I let my eyes wander around to see if there's another route we can take to get down to the archives. "Found it! Over here!" Aunt Lynn calls us to the corner of the room where she stands in front of a wall. Upon closer inspection, it turns out to be a doorway, only that years of dust and neglect have deteriorated the doorway to look just like the withered walls. "Somebody wanna help me out with this?" she grunts from the effort as she manages to force apart just a small crack between the doors.

"I've got this," Ralak steps in and effortlessly pushes the doors apart with the sounds of screeching metal.

"Good thing you decided to tag along, big guy," Aunt Lynn smirks, impressed with the krogan's raw strength.

"Either that or we wait here long enough to bore the geth to death," Ralak quips.

"And here I was thinking that krogans don't have a sense of humor."

"You'd be surprised," Ralak pushes past me into the stairwell beyond and I can see the edges of his mouth curling up in the slightest hint of a smile.

The four of us descend down the dimly-lit stairwell, using our omni-tools to light the way down the precarious flights of stairs. It's surreal to see that an extinct and technologically-advanced alien race also shares the same concepts of stairs as we do.

"Good thing they didn't forget the stairs," I say aloud.

"Must be because they got so goddamned tired of waiting in the elevators back on the Citadel," Aunt Lynn jokes. I'll admit that I've really started to take a liking to her personality. She may be brash and a bit of a tomboy, but she more than makes up for it with her easygoing and lighthearted attitude.

"Joke all you want, you two, but remember to keep your eyes peeled. We've got geth up top and who knows what else could be waiting for us down here," Dad cautions.

"Lighten up a little, Nick. My unit does it all the time to help cope with the stress."

Dad just shakes his head and focuses on descending the steps without tripping. We finally make it to the bottom of the stairwell and emerge into a large, cavernous room. The lofty ceilings must be almost a hundred feet high and swaths of moth-eaten, regal banners drape off the ceilings to nearly touch the floor.

An image flashes before my vision, transforming the dilapidated great hall into one of a bustling center of activity. Disembodied mists of light taking on a Prothean-like silhouette pace across the floor of the hall in the heyday of the megalopolis, and I can even hear the chatter of the crowds as clear as day. I manage to make out a heavily-guarded archway on the far end of the hall but that's all I get as the vision disappears from me as soon as it came. I even find myself blinking several times to make sure that it's not just a figment of my imagination.

"Dad? I think I just had a vision of this place," I say to him.

He perks up and rushes over to me. "What did you see? Anything to tell us where the archives are located?"

I point to the other side of the hall where an elaborate archway stands. "I think that will take us to the archives."

We walk towards the archway with Aunt Lynn and Dad taking the lead. Ralak and I hang a little bit behind as we admire the ruined beauty of the hall.

"Gotta say, this place looks a hell of a lot like Tuchanka."

"Really?"

"Yeah, only difference is that it doesn't have any animals or plants that could eat you alive," he states dryly.

I do a little double-take at his words. "Carnivorous plants and animals? I don't think I'll be visiting the place any time soon."

The ground suddenly rumbles beneath our feet, causing Ralak and I to lose our footing. I can start to hear something creaking underneath us which does not make for a good omen. Dad and Aunt Lynn turn to look back at us and I catch their expression changing to one of pure surprise as the floor crumbles beneath us. Suddenly, I feel weightlessness taking ahold of my body as the two of us fall right through the ground.

"Woah!"

I flail my arms and legs wildly, hoping desperately to find purchase on something. No such luck. Ralak and I plummet through the darkness below and before I know it, my body crashes through something and I'm enveloped from head to toe in water. I'm slightly dazed from the impact but it doesn't take me long to get my bearings. I see the column of light from the hole rippling on the surface of the water and I swim towards it.

The moment I break through the surface of the water, I take a huge gasp of air and cough out the water I swallowed in the fall. Ralak's head bobs up out of the water soon after.

"Nate! Answer me! You two okay down there!?" I hear Dad's voice coming from above.

"Yeah! The two of us are fine! The water broke our fall," I squint my eyes against the light streaming in from the hole.

"I think you might have just landed in the ruins' aquifer systems."

I look around our new surroundings. The dank tunnels that we seem to be in are rather dark in contrast to the hall above. I also see dry ground on one side of the tunnel which Ralak's now swimming his way towards. And judging from the stream of water that stretches from one side of the darkened tunnel to the other, I'd say Dad's right about the aquifer part.

"Don't worry about us. We'll find a way to get up there!" I call out as I start swimming for shore.

"Hey big guy, do me a favor and look after Nate, will you?" Aunt Lynn's voice joins the fray.

"He's not afraid of his own shadow and ghosts down here, is he?" Ralak quips.

"Ha-ha, very funny, you guys," I furrow my brow in annoyance as I clamber out of the water, soaking wet.

"Get up here as soon as you can! I really don't want to be sitting around here when the geth show up," Dad calls out.

"Will do!" I shake the water off of my pistol and sniper rifle. "This bringing back any memories yet?" I turn to Ralak, gesturing at our current situation which almost mirrors our predicament when we first met on Omega.

"At least nobody's shooting at us this time when we're both handcuffed to one another," the krogan replies, clearly not having fond memories of our escapades with the Blue Suns.

"Yeah but – "

A low growl emanating from somewhere down the tunnel cuts me off. Before long, a pair of glowing, orange eyes emerges from the darkness followed by several more. Several creatures, twice the size of a dog and with fangs as huge as my arms, step into sight.

"Varrens. Should have seen that coming," Ralak sighs.

I instinctively take a step back as at least five of those things slowly stalk towards us. "W-what are those things?"

"We keep them as pets back in Tuchanka. They'll eat anything and they've got one hell of a bite. Just don't turn your backs on them and you'll be fine," Ralak replies, not even the slightest bit fazed at having to stare down a pack of rabid varrens.

"Care to retract that statement about not having any local wildlife that might kill us?" I let out a small, anxious laugh.

"Nope, not really."

"Why?" I turn to look at Ralak who already has his shotgun drawn. I slowly back up towards the rear of the tunnel but Ralak seems intent on holding his ground. The creatures are growling more ferociously and licking their maws at what they must think is a potential food source.

"Not if I kill them first."

* * *

**A/N: And that's another chapter down and updated just in time before the weekend is over too! I'll treat that as a success! Just to clear things up, Nate's gang is currently not at the ExoGeni headquarters since I don't want them interfering too much with the Commander's work. **

**Also, as many might have noticed, I've taken a lot of creative liberties in this chapter, especially when it comes to the lower levels of the ruins. Granted, we didn't get a chance to explore much of the ruins in the first game, as all it did was limit us to the ExoGeni headquarters. I thought it was a missed opportunity on Bioware's part so I decided to throw it in here in this fic. And the whole thing on the homogeneity of Prothean city model was kind of an extrapolation based on what I've learnt about their imperialistic culture and galaxy-spanning empire in Mass Effect 3. **

**Lastly, thanks for taking the time to read! I appreciate the feedbacks and support that you guys have been giving me so far. Well, this is where I say goodbye and I'll see you guys and gals again next week! **


	29. Last Ditch Plans

**A/ N: What's this? It hasn't been a week yet and already, an update? What is this sorcery? Let's see if I can continue to pull this off on a more regular basis, which I seriously doubt, now that finals and projects are all starting to pile up on me as the spring semester reaches its end. **

**Anyways, apart from thanking you guys for being faithful readers, I really don't have much else to say. On with the story then! Without giving too much away, all I can say is that this is where the story pretty much hits a crucial point in the overall narrative. Hope y'all will enjoy this latest installment!**

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**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 28 – Last Ditch Plans

_Everything on the colony looks quiet enough._

I peer out over the outpost from the entrance of docking bays. The geth hasn't shown any signs of returning so the colonists on Zhu's Hope are making good use of the respite to shore up their defenses. I set the assault rifle down on the ground for a moment as I reach to unholster my sidearm. I check over my old Armiger service pistol to make sure that the gun's still able to fire. The thing _does _have a spotty history for overheating and malfunctioning. Fortunately, everything checks out. Looks like Krysarae did a great job at restoring and upgrading the gun's components.

Ranae walks towards the starboard side of the Vanguard where Nazreil's busy soldering up parts of the damaged hull. "How're the repairs coming along?" she asks somewhat anxiously.

"A couple more minutes and I should be able to restore the hull's integrity to what it was before," the quarian replies as he continues working. "Thank goodness someone had the foresight to upgrade the kinetic barriers and the ablative platings on the ship or the damage could've been a whole lot worse."

_Good old Lyraxus. _

I smile with the memory of my old squadmate. The guy always did have a penchant for sparing no expenses when it came to servicing and upgrading any sort of starship. When the opportunity presented itself to him to maintain the Vanguard with Aurania's vast financial resources, how could the poor guy have said no? I wonder what it is that's he doing these days since I saw him last on New Madison.

"How much longer before you think the ship's space-worthy again?" I call out over to the two.

"It won't take much longer now, Mr. Leonus."

"Good. And hey, Nazreil?"

"Yes sir?"

"I really appreciate you doing this. Keep up the good work!"

The quarian nods sheepishly in acknowledgement. I pick up my rifle and turn my attention back towards the outpost for any signs of the geth. I try opening up a comm. line to Nick but all I get is static in response. I try for Lynn and Nate's frequencies only to get the same result. Knowing the geth, they'd probably have some jammer in place to block all outgoing and incoming transmission.

"Damn it," I curse.

I sweep my attention over the docking bays and it looks like there's only one other ship in here apart from the Vanguard. The ship looks to be empty ever since we docked here so I assume it must have belonged to the colonists. A fleeting movement of a silhouette in the starboard viewport proves me wrong however. I bring up my rifle and peer into the medium-range scope.

_What in spirits' name?_

I look into the scope again to make sure I'm not seeing things. Yep, there's no doubt about it. There's someone pacing nervously in there. But more importantly, it's the same man that led the team to kill me and Ralak back when we were docked in the Citadel to retrieve Aurania's backup drives. The Broker's men are here on Feros too.

"Son of a bitch," I immediately stride towards Ranae and Nazreil. Now we've got those men to worry about on top of the geth. The similarity of our predicament to that on Eden Prime isn't lost on me. The two look to me and I can see anxiety reflected in their expressions as I briskly walk towards them.

"This is bad. The Broker's men have managed to track us down here," I break the news, stealing occasional glances back at the ship.

"What?" Ranae exclaims incredulously. "How can you be so sure? We've made sure to cover our tracks this time!"

I gesture at their ship. "One of their operatives that tried to kill me when we were docked on the Citadel is in there right now."

"So what do we do now?" Nazreil asks concernedly.

I'm about to reply when a thought occurs to me. I weigh our situation and I realize that a golden opportunity has just presented itself to us. If we don't act on it now, we might never get the chance to ever again. This could very well be what we need to finally throw the Broker's men off our tail once and for all.

"Listen closely now, here's the plan…"

* * *

"I know somebody's in there! The geth are attacking and we're going to need all the help we can get to fend them off!" I furiously pound on the airlock door of the Broker's starship. "Didn't you hear me?! You can hole up in there as long as you want, but if the geth wipes out the outpost, you're going to be nothing more than sitting ducks in there!"

There's no reply at first. But the locks on the door flashes green and the airlock door slides open with a hiss of pneumatics. A familiar-looking man in armor, assault rifle pointed at me, stands in the doorway.

"Step away from the door!" he orders.

"It's a pleasure to see you again," I smirk.

His gaze meets mine and his expression instantly changes to one of surprise as he finally recognizes me. His finger closes around the trigger but the sound of a pistol trained at his head stops him. Ranae steps out from behind, hands gripped tightly on the gun.

"I'd strongly caution against that course of action," she says coolly. "Now drop it." The man does as he's told, dropping the rifle. Just as he raises his arms in surrender, he pivots sharply around in an attempt to elbow Ranae. She sees it coming from a mile away and ducks underneath the blow. The man backpedals away from us and reaches for his sidearm. Ranae doesn't even give him a chance as she unleashes a biotic throw that sends him crashing violently into the inner hull of the ship. "Amateur."

"Good job sneaking in with Nazreil through the cargo hold. I take it there's nobody else in there?" I scoop up the dropped assault rifle.

"Only this one guy here. And to Nazreil's credit, you have him to thank for hacking us in. The quarian's a savant when it comes to tech," Ranae walks over to the operative struggling to his feet and slams the butt of the pistol into his unprotected face. The guy goes out like a light and slumps to the floor.

"Get him back into the Vanguard and tie him up. I've a feeling that we might have a use for him yet."

"Sure thing, Mr. Leo," Ranae takes the man by his legs and starts dragging him off toward the Vanguard.

I step into the ship, assault rifle drawn in case of any surprises. I clear out each room one by one only to confirm what Ranae's said before. It might only be that one operative on the ship right now but the signs point to at least two other people on board. It doesn't matter. We'll be in and out of here before they make their way back. I step into the cockpit where Nazreil's already typing away at his omni-tool.

"How's the hack looking?"

"I'm almost done hacking my way through the firewalls and encryption," the quarian replies. "And….done! I'm downloading the ship's past mass relay trajectories and other pertinent coordinates right now."

"Good job," I give him a pat on the back and return my attention towards the colony's outpost. What do the humans call it again, gut feeling? Whatever it is, something tells me that the geth are going to be back soon. I only hope that Nick and Nate get back here before they do.

* * *

Five drooling maws stare back at me. I look around at my surroundings and consider jumping back into the water where the varren can't follow. At least, I'm hoping that they can't swim.

"Don't even think about it, kid. These things can easily outswim you," Ralak warns me, as if reading my mind.

I hear Dad's panicked voice coming from above. "Nate, don't let those things even land a bite on you! The bacteria in their mouths are lethal to humans!" I see the glint of a sniper scope in the hole above as Dad prepares to take aim.

"Geth! Nick, find cover!" Aunt Lynn yells from up top. Dad turns to some unseen assailant and the two scramble away from the hole. Small weapons fire erupts in the great hall above soon after.

"Dad! Aunt Lynn!"

"Kid, we've got other things to worry about down here!" Ralak growls.

I raise my pistol and prepare to take aim at the advancing varrens. Ralak stands his ground, shotgun cocked and ready to fire. In one swift motion, the pack breaks out into a sprint, three of them charging for Ralak and the remaining two make a beeline for me. A blast from Ralak's shotgun and my pistol ring out simultaneously. I squeeze off a few rounds at the fast moving targets, managing only to fill one varren with enough lead to take it down.

"Woah!" I dive to the side as the remaining varren pounces at me, jaws snapping shut at where my legs would have been moments before. I try scrambling to my feet, but the varren's already on me. It makes another pounce on me, and its sheer weight knocks me right back down to the ground. The impact sends the pistol flying out of my hands and skittering away to the side, out of my reach.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. _

Its maw is just about to come clamping down on my neck when I reach out to grab its neck by both hands. It takes all of my strength to just hold those vicious teeth at bay. Saliva droops all over my clothes and I can smell its putrid, rotten breath against my face. I know full well I won't be able to hold out forever so I make one last desperate gambit. I free my left arm and drive all four of my outstretched fingers into its eye. The feeling is sickening as I push my hand further inside, trying to gauge its eye out. The varren lets out a howl of pain and I seize the moment to gain enough leverage on my back to kick it away. It backpedals close to the water's edge and I waste no time in delivering the coup de grace.

I push myself up and break into a short run to cover the short distance between us. I take a small leap and throw out both my legs in front of me. Just like how I rehearsed it in the studio back home, I let the momentum carry me forward in a baseball slide dropkick. My feet drive right into the varren's belly and send it flying into the water. I waste no time in picking up my pistol, taking aim and putting the damn thing out of its wretched existence.

With that taken care of, I point my weapon towards Ralak, whom I can't tell is either having difficulty with the varrens or the time of his life. One already lies dead at his feet in a puddle of blood; while he has one by its neck and another sinking its teeth into his left arm. He smashes the one he's holding into the ground repeatedly like it's nothing more than a playtoy before turning his attention back towards the one biting into his arm. He wrenches it off and tosses it to the ground. The varren lets out a small whimper. Realizing that it's outnumbered, it beats a hasty retreat back into the darkness.

"And you'd better run!" the krogan yells out. "Damned animals. Forgot how feisty they were."

"Oh my god! Are you okay, man?" I huff through my gasps for air, eyes trained on the nasty puncture wounds on his left arm.

"What, this?" he gestures to the bite. "It's only a scratch. I'll live so don't you worry about me dying on you, kid."

"What about the bite? Won't it get infected?"

Ralak rolls his eyes. "Krogans are immune to their bites so stop worrying about me already."

"Okay, if you say so," I shrug.

"Let's get going. I've a feeling it's gonna be bringing more of its friends if we don't get out of here."

My heart sinks at the mention of more varrens on our heels. "Then what are we still doing standing around here?" I gulp.

Ralak picks up his shotgun and the two of us set off at a sprint along the darkened tunnels with only the light from my omni-tool to light the way.

"Any ideas on how to get out of here?"

"Nope," I respond, still trying to get my breathing under control after that near brush with death.

"You know, those biotics would really be helpful back there," he grunts.

I do a small double take before resuming my jog down the darkened tunnel. "I don't know how to use them and besides, I didn't even know I was capable of them in the first place."

"Right….you somehow managed to just pull them out of your ass when your life was on the line," he lets out a skeptical grin.

"I'm telling the truth! I didn't even know what biotics were before I brought that whole atrium down in Omega."

The distant howling and patter of paws somewhere in the darkness brings our conversation to a halt. We pick up our pace and soon enough, the beam of light shines upon a small door set into the tunnel wall. I run my hands along the door, hoping to find some way of opening it.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Open it with whatever Prothean tech that your dad's implanted into you," Ralak mutters impatiently, keeping watch for the incoming varrens.

"I can't! The door doesn't seem to be powered on or anything!"

"Here, hold this," he sighs and pushes the shotgun into my arms. "Why is it that I have to do everything myself?" Ralak digs his fingers and finds purchase in the boundary where the two doors meet. He grunts with effort as he tries prying the doors open.

The patter of paws grows nearer and I swing the shotgun towards the source of its sound. Several pairs of beady eyes wander into the shaft of my omni-tool's light and I instinctively pull the trigger. I've never fired a shotgun before so I'm unprepared to ride out the recoil of its powerful blast. The recoil kicks the gun's stock into my arm, and I stagger back slightly with the pain and recoil. The varrens meet the brunt of the buckshot head on and collapse clumsily to the ground.

"Ralak! Any day now!" I pull the trigger again, sending another shot booming through the tunnels. I grit my teeth against the pain as the recoil courses through the bruises on my arm.

"I'm trying my best here!" Ralak grunts, his voice straining with the exertion. "Almost there!"

I finally hear metal screeching under Ralak's strength as a tiny crack starts opening up in the door. I'm doing all I can to buy him time and keep the varren at bay with repeated blasts of the shotgun. The barrel starts to glow red-hot and another shot causes the gun to emit the familiar warning beeps of an overheated weapon.

"Damn it, not now!" I glance down at the gun as the trigger locks up.

"There! It's open, so get your ass in there!" Ralak yells.

I pivot backwards on my feet and squeeze through the opening that the krogan has made in the door. In the room beyond lies a ladder leading upwards that's set into the wall in front of me. I toss the weapon to the outstretched hands of Ralak who's already there waiting on me. I jump onto the bottom rungs and start climbing like a mad man. Ralak does the same, just in the nick of time before the whole pack of varrens come crashing into the room. I can hear their vicious jaws snapping away at the bottom and a yelp from one of them as Ralak kicks one of them that tried jumping and sinking its teeth into his leg.

I hold onto each rung for dear life and just concentrate on getting to the top. The thought of slipping on the ladder and falling down into the waiting jaws of death below is enough of an incentive to keep me climbing upwards.

I clamber up the final rung and my feet touches solid ground again, much to my relief. I double over and rest my hands on my knees as I desperately try to catch my breath.

"That was too close," I say in between gasps for air.

"It was fun while it lasted though. It's been a while since I've last wrestled with varren," Ralak says as he heaves himself up off the ladder. "Come on, we've still got ourselves some geth to take care of," he gestures upwards.

"Right, let's go," I nod.

As much as my lungs ache for air right now, Aunt Lynn and Dad are still somewhere up there taking fire from the geth. The ladder brings us up to another stretch of maintenance tunnels. Illuminated only by my omni-tool's light, we grope our way along the walls until we come to an open elevator shaft. As usual, the elevator car's missing so we make do with climbing up yet another set of ladders. I guess several design sensibilities withstand the test of time.

We emerge on the ground floor to a familiar-looking hallway where muted sounds of a firefight can be heard somewhere in our immediate vicinity. There's only one door in this room and the two of us get to work on prying it open. As soon as a small slit opens up in the door, the sounds of rattling gunfire pour through.

"Why can't this thing open fast enough?" I grunt as I throw my entire body weight behind pulling the doors open.

Ralak gives one final tug and the doors slide open to the squealing protest of metal. "Piece of cake," he grins smugly.

We take off after the sounds of the gunfire to the great hall. Once at the entrance, I slide behind one of the archway and pull out my sniper rifle. I peer around the corner and spot 4 geth, one of them significantly larger than the other, advancing on Dad and Aunt Lynn's position at the far end of the hall. Several geth troopers are already lying motionless on the floor. Both sides are making good use of the rubble strewn about as cover but fortunately for Ralak and I, the geth have their backs exposed to us.

I turn to Ralak and meet his eyes: we're both thinking what the other is. We give each other a nod, swivel out of cover and open fire on the geth's unprotected rear. Ralak advances into an effective range for his shotgun while my first shot blows one of the geth's arms completely off, causing it to stumble and then explode in a slurry of white fluid under Aunt Lynn's follow-up barrage.

"Three more to go, Lynn!" Dad calls out as Aunt Lynn activates her cloak and disappears from sight again.

I pull back the bolt to reprime the mass accelerator and set my sights on a new target. The geth have noted our presence and quickly dive into cover. I sweep my scope around and hone in on one of those flashlight heads that's peeking ever so slightly out of cover. One pull of the trigger and the head explodes clean off, sending metallic debris raining everywhere.

"Headshot!"

Two down, two to go. Aunt Lynn materializes in thin air right next to the last of the smaller geth troopers and jabs her pulsing omni-tool into its chest. Electricity crackles through its entire being, and with a flourish of spark and smoke, the unit deactivates and falls dead in front of her.

"Concentrate fire on the juggernaut, guys!" Aunt Lynn orders as she sends another barrage at the oversized, red-armored geth unit.

I dive back into cover just as several plasma rounds whizz by, causing the air to smell burnt along the projectiles' flight path.

_Woah. That was way too close. _

With the juggernaut stuck in a crossfire from all directions, it doesn't take long for us to whittle down its robust shields and take it out. The odds are almost laughable. Once the dust settles, we meet in front of the elaborate archway that I point out earlier.

"Nate, thank God you're okay!" Dad rushes to me and thoroughly inspects me for any visible injuries.

"Dad, I'm fine. I'm not hurt or anything," I brush him off, feeling a little embarrassed at his overbearing concern for me. "What about you and Aunt Lynn?"

He steps back, sheepish grin etched across his face once he realizes what he's done. "We're holding up okay, although things could have gotten real ugly if you two hadn't shown up."

"Thanks for the assist, big guy. Knew we could count on ya," Aunt Lynn grins gratefully at Ralak.

"Don't mention it. The geth were starting to piss me off anyways," Ralak replies dryly.

"So, are we going to stand around here or what? Don't we have an archive to find?" I motion to the rest.

"Lead the way," Aunt Lynn gestures.

The four of us step under the archway where a large and ornate door awaits us. Like the rest of the dilapidated ruins, there doesn't seem to be any power linking to the door. As we get closer, I realize just how much we're dwarfed by the doorway's immense size.

"Any clues on how to get us in?" Aunt Lynn inspects the intricate details and carvings on the door. "I don't think we'll be able to force away into this one," she says, scratching her head.

"Explosives and power tools didn't do the trick either," Ralak notes, pointing out the various blast marks and dents on the thick door.

"Looks like we've reached an impasse," Dad says, furrowing his brow in thought. "On the one hand, we're stuck out here but on the other, the fact that this door is heavily sealed and impenetrable must mean that it's guarding something important inside." He gives a small little smile of triumph. "What are the odds that the archives lie just right beyond this door here?"

I take another step back to fully take in the sight of the door. As I look up, I'm no longer looking at the door in the present, but rather, from a time not of this galaxy's cycle. I feel as though I'm viewing the events unfold through a filter; everything takes on a hazy and gold-tinged quality. Two armed Protheans stand guard on both sides of the door and a single Prothean wanders up to it. It places his hands on some sort of intricate fingerprint device set into the center of the door and lo and behold, the door parts open.

Having discovered the key to opening the archive door, I rush forward and the vision of the past recedes from my consciousness. "I think I figured out how to open it!" I exclaim.

Dad must have come to the same conclusion as I have, as he carefully inspects the same fingerprint mechanism that I saw in my vision. "Looks like my hypothesis was right. This thing looks to be some sort of haptic interface which controls the lock for the door," Dad turns to me, "Nate, why don't you try interacting with it and see what happens."

"I'm on it," I say as I place my right palm on the device. At first, nothing happens but then, I start to feel an odd sensation running through me. It's not at all uncomfortable; just unfamiliar. It starts as a small pulse stemming from my brain before coursing through my entire being. I feel the energy directing itself outward through the palm of my hand and into the door.

I hear a collective intake of breath. "Wow, Nate. What did you just do?" Aunt Lynn asks, her voice in awe.

I open my eyes which I don't even realize have fluttered shut and marvel at what I've just accomplished.

"Cool."

A blue light radiates from the fingerprint device and snakes its way across the door's engravings. Once the carvings have been lit from top to bottom, an earthy rumbling can be heard and eventually, the door slides open. We step beyond its threshold into a huge, circular room, its walls lined entirely with glowing rings that are starting to pulse blue upon our entrance.

"Oh my god….." Dad trails off breathlessly.

It's not hard to see the excitement and wonder reflected in his eyes. After all those years of research on the Protheans, stepping foot into a real-life Prothean archive must be a dream come true for him. As we walk further inside, I start to realize that we're treading on hallowed grounds. The air in here feels ancient and untouched, which is a given, seeing as this place hasn't been opened in what must be several millennia. A small outcrop extends to the center of a room where a data console lies.

"You two go on ahead. Ralak and I will keep watch," Aunt Lynn volunteers, hanging back nearby the entrance.

Dad and I walk along the outcrop towards the console. Anticipation and reluctance builds in me with each and every step. The initial moment of awe has now melted away to a foreboding aura that just seems to emanate from the console. Do I really want to know the secrets and truths that it holds within?

"Dad, are you sure about this?"

He locks eyes with me and there has never been a more resolute look in them. "Isn't this it? Isn't this what you've been waiting to find out?" he says softly.

"But…"

He puts a comforting hand on my shoulder and draws me close. "Everything's going to be okay. You've got nothing to be afraid of."

I gulp and take a few deep breaths as the console stares back at me. "Okay."

"I'll be off to the side to take some readings as you interface with the archives." Sensing my hesitation, he gives me an encouraging smile. "Whatever happens, I'm here for you."

_Well, here goes nothing. _

I slowly place both my palms on the console. The moment my hands make contact, it feels as though my entire being is sucked out of me and suspended in a sea of various other consciousnesses. I take a moment to reorient myself to my new cerebral surroundings. It doesn't take me long to sift through these 'consciousnesses' which I later discover to be a form of encapsulating memories and information.

I mentally select one out of random. I feel a link being established between myself and the trove of information and what I discover is absolutely mind-blowing. Not only am I able to merely view the information as it's presented to me, I'm actually able to _feel _every detail and facet of the information. I can actually smell the scent of a flower that I've never seen before and I'm able to feel the texture and warmth of the pelt of some fluffy animal that the Protheans keep as pets.

I also learn the hard way that many of these various 'data packets' are corrupted beyond repair as attested to by grating headaches when trying to view images that just flutter in and out of existence. However, there's one data packet that draws me in above all others. The urgency of it somewhat indicates its importance. I highlight the data packet and watch as its contents play out before me.

_A view of the Citadel from space, its five arms outstretched magnificently against the pink clouds of the nebula. On the station itself, the keepers all move in unison as they key in some sort of command throughout the entire space station. Shortly after, a small distortion can be seen in the nebula in the background of the Citadel. In an instant, all manner of those gargantuan squid-like entities materialize into being and they simultaneously descend on the space station like predators lunging in for the kill. _

_The Reaper forces laying waste to the Citadel is but a small fraction of its main armada as more and more come pouring in all around the space station. Explosions ring out from all along the Wards and thousands of agonized screams are silenced shut all in a matter of seconds. The rest of the Reapers head off towards the mass relay and propel themselves to various reaches of the Milky Way galaxy, no doubt on their quest to annihilate all organic life as they see fit. This marks the beginning of the end to the Prothean Empire. _

"NO!"

I yell in warning, emerging back into reality after witnessing that horrendous vision. My legs buckle underneath me, and I collapse to the floor in a heap of cold sweat and shivering limbs.

"Nate!" Dad rushes to my side and prop me up. I can barely feel him there; even as he yells something inaudible into my ears to try to snap me out of my fear-stricken state. I don't even notice as Ralak and Aunt Lynn join us on the outcrop.

"Reapers….Citadel…they're coming…." I mumble incoherently, my teeth still chattering with fear.

"Calm down, Nate. Take a few deep breaths, that's it," Dad says reassuringly, "Take as much time as you need. We're safe here for the time being."

It takes me a while to regain control of my faculties. But when I finally remember how to breathe again, I take in lungfuls of air like every gasp was going to be my last.

"Reapers…I saw them, Dad. They're coming," I manage to say aloud, finally noticing just how dry my lips are.

"Yes, we know they're approaching. What about it?"

"The Citadel," I continue, and it's a constant struggle to even keep my voice steady. "The Citadel's a giant mass relay! That's how the Reapers are going to get here!"

A grim silence falls among the group as they let the implications of my words sink in. Aunt Lynn pretty much relays all of what we're thinking right now.

"…_Shit_."

* * *

**A/N: Woah, I'm on a roll here! Another chapter out within the span of three days! That's gotta be a new personal best! **

**Aha, now we have ourselves a large reveal, the plot thickens, and the race is on! Will Nate and company be able to sound off the warning in time before the denizens of the Milky Way fall peril to the harbingers of galactic genocide that are the Reapers? Find out in the next few installments of Mass Effect: Remnants! **

**And…..I totally didn't mean to go all Saturday morning cartoon announcer on you guys. It's late right now and I'm just having such a blast writing this. Also, I'm trying out some new things with my writing now, so bear with me if you think the writing deviates somewhat from what you're used to. **

**Anyways, thanks for taking the time to read and I'll see next time when the next update rolls around! **


	30. A Dangerous Game

**A/N: And here I am, back with another update just in time for the weekends! I'm going to keep the notes mercifully short this time. Thanks for still sticking with me and for the continued support, fellow readers! **

**Well, hope you enjoy this chapter after the unfolding of events in the previous one!**

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 29 – A Dangerous Game

Wilkins has his foot full down on the throttle of the Mako. The vehicle barrels along the skybridge, kicking up dirt and debris. He peers out the driver's seat viewport and locks his gaze on his current target: a geth dropship perched onto the side of one of the towers. With its location memorized, Wilkins guns the engine and steers the vehicle towards said tower.

"Sir? I wouldn't exactly advise an engagement with the geth at this point," Tara points out, her voice steady but with an edge of anxiety to it.

Wilkins stares straight ahead as his mind works on fabricating an excuse to justify his actions. "I found a huge cache of untouched Prothean archives down in those ruins, just like the Broker said," he lies. "The cache's also pinpointed me to the one remaining archive all across this goddamned planet." He sets his eyes on the tower ahead. "And that's where it's located. I'll be damned if I let the geth get their hands on it."

"Sir, how can you be so sure that they're after the archive in the first place?"

"Don't you remember Eden Prime? The moment a working Prothean beacon's discovered, the geth, who have not been seen beyond the Perseus Veil for hundreds of years, attack the colony. Do you think it's all just one giant coincidence?"

Her silence tells him that she has also reluctantly come to the conclusion. "Might I remind you that we're grossly outnumbered and outgunned by the geth? How do you even plan on breaking through their ranks to get to the archives?" Although her professionalism and loyalty refrains her from explicitly stating it, Wilkins knows full well that charging in there is going to be a suicide mission.

"I'll think of something," he mutters.

After several minutes of tense silence in the vehicle, Wilkins brings the Mako skidding to a stop at the tower's entryway. He heads into the back compartment and grabs the gear that he's brought along. He's taken the lesson learnt back on Eden Prime to heart – always prepare for the absolute worst. Which is why he's thankful he's brought a full set of combat armor on board as well as several military-grade firearms.

"If things start getting too hot out here or if I give the orders, you take the Mako and head right back to the outpost," Wilkins orders. He hastily fumbles with the boots and gauntlets, followed by the chest plates. "And for fuck's sakes, try getting Tobias on the comm. channel! There's a war going on out here and he's yet to report in!" He clips on the Devlon Industries Firestorm shotgun on his back and takes a Kassa Fabrication Breaker assault rifle with him.

"Roger that, sir."

He's already poised to exit the Mako when he settles on bringing a couple of grenades for good measure. "Our communications module should be able to cut through the geth's jammer frequencies, so get Tobias on the comm. ASAP."

"Should I tell him to get the ship ready in the event that we need to bug out, sir?" Tara inquires, already one step ahead of him.

"That, and let him know that I'd like to personally _renegotiate_ his terms of employment."

"And sir?"

"What?" He turns back to Tara, annoyed. His entire body is on edge; both from the threat of the geth and of the anxiety of another possible confrontation with Saren.

"Good luck."

The words just ring hollow to him – luck _never_ factored into his line of work. With that, Wilkins hops out of the Mako and starts off at a run towards the structure. He slides up towards the archway leading inside, back pressed firmly against the wall. He opens up the combat scanner mod on his rifle, surveying his immediate surroundings.

_Clear. Looks like Saren and his pals are a couple of levels below me. _

Wilkins advances into the entryway, assault rifle drawn. True enough, there's nothing in sight. He slowly inches his way through the rubble as he descends to where the geth are concentrated in the subterranean levels below, all the while making good use of the shadows and cover.

He swings his assault rifle into another dilapidated room. It's empty. Another furtive glance at his combat scanner indicates that he's still a floor or two above the geth. Wilkins takes another deep breath, steadying his fraying nerves. He keeps a white-knuckled grip on his rifle as if his life depended upon it.

_Wilkins, just what the fuck do you think you're doing? _

A little voice of reason starts echoing in his head. It's barely able to push through the pounding in his ears and his own elevated heart rate. The facts don't lie – it's just him against a highly-trained Spectre who came close to ending his life in their first encounter, backed by a whole squad of synthetic assault troopers. By all accounts, this form of engagement would only amount to suicide on his part.

Yet, here he is on a wild goose chase to find that very same Spectre. It's not even a guarantee that Saren will be with this particular squadron of geth, or even if he's on the planet in the first place. However, Wilkins's gut feeling tells him that Saren's the kind of person who doesn't mind getting his own hands dirty. Even after he's found Saren, what would Wilkins possibly do next to get the answers that he needs from the turian? He inwardly curses himself at not having planned this far ahead. But this is exactly what's worrying him most – he's been behaving somewhat erratically in the past few weeks after the incident on Eden Prime. It's uncharacteristic of him to walk into anything without a fully-formed plan. Even if mission parameters change, he's always prided himself on his ability to think on his feet and improvise a brand new plan. Unfortunately, he can't say the same for this time. The differences have been subtle – but there's no denying it, it's there. Wilkins chalked it up to the trauma of his sustained injuries but now, he's not so sure anymore.

The falling of loose rubble causes him to whirl around to face the source of the noise, his finger already on the trigger. After seeing yet another empty room behind him, he lets out a small sigh of relief and lowers the rifle. He inspects his surroundings for the umpteenth time and deeming it clear of hostiles, he advances further down below.

_Almost there. _

Another minute of sneaking around finally brings him down to the base of the tower where more rubble and dilapidated walls lie. The stairwell brings him down to a largely square room where two rows of large pillar-like columns line the room. On the other side is a large crevice in the ground that leads to the subterranean levels below.

"Shit," he silently mutters after another glance at his scanner mod. The geth are on the move.

He treads as lightly as possible and hides behind one of the ruined pillars. He crouches low within the pillar's shadows and sets his gaze on the opening. Soon enough, he starts to hear the shuffling of multiple feet. Assault rifle still tightly clutched in his hands, Wilkins waits with bated breath as he observes the party emerging from the opening.

_No fucking way._

A familiar fringe comes into sight followed by the rest of the turian that it belongs to. Saren Arterius walks out of the opening, striking an imposing figure against the squadron of geth troopers that surround him. He takes the lead and strides towards the stairwell, resolve and purpose punctuating each of his strides.

"It's a shame that I had to give up one of Benezia's underlings to that…monstrosity," Saren casually remarks to the troopers. "At least she made for good company while she was around." The troopers remain eerily stoic.

In a flash, something leaps out of the opening behind Saren's party and clings onto the wall directly above Wilkins. He sets his gaze on this new arrival and sees that it's another geth unit – but unlike the others, this one looks awfully different. Instead of the metallic plating and joints of its peers, its entire body is made up of some sort of synthetic and sinewy material that almost mimics the musculature system of a human. Its ubiquitous flashlight-like head instantly distinguishes itself as a geth.

"Now let's return to the dropship and report back in to Sovereign. Our business here is done," Saren continues, his flanging voice echoing in the room. "Now that we have the Cipher, it's only a matter of time before we find the Conduit. And when we finally get the Citadel relay working again, let's just hope the Reapers will keep their end of our bargain," the turian mutters grimly.

_Reapers._

Wilkins tosses the word inside his head. The term sounded so foreign to his ears yet so familiar. The visions that occurred to him in the ruins below come back to the forefront of his mind. His eyes widen in acknowledgement as he finally associates a hazy image to the word. Even then, Wilkins remains unsure of himself. The Reapers and the Protheans are somehow connected; but there's just something that he's not seeing here. The convoluted and distorted images of the vision did nothing but further muddle his train of thought.

However, there's one thing that he's willing to stake his life on. There's no longer any shred of doubt about it. Saren, Sovereign and the Reapers are definitely plotting something huge together. And Wilkins's an unwilling pawn in the thick of it all.

An artificially-synthesized growl snaps Wilkins out of his reverie and he notices the geth hopper sweeping the perimeter. He retreats further into the shadows that shroud the pillar. The geth's gaze lingers on his position for a fraction of second too long. It takes Wilkins all of his willpower to convince himself not to do anything rash. His combat armor is built from the ground up for stealth operations. The built-in infiltration VI suite masks all bodily signatures and bends light-waves to camouflage their user into their surroundings. Essentially, he's all but invisible right now.

The geth hopper's behavior doesn't escape Saren's attention as he orders for the geth squadron to halt. From the corner of his eyes, Wilkins sees Saren advancing into the center of the room, the turian already training his sidearm on the general vicinity of Wilkins hiding spot behind the pillar. Wilkins holds his breath and silently readies his assault rifle to fire.

Saren stops in front of the pillar and sweeps his pistol around. For the briefest moment, Wilkins could swear that Saren's gaze meet his; the turian's glowing blue eyes piercing into his own. Every fiber of his being is screaming at Wilkins to seize upon the element of surprise and mow down the turian before he even sees it coming. Thankfully, self-preservation takes precedence and roots Wilkins to the spot.

"Nothing here," the Spectre holsters his pistol and turns back to his geth squadron. "Exterminate the colony, the outpost, everything. Leave no traces behind. I don't want another repeat of Eden Prime." Saren takes one last look back into the room and gives a small but knowing smile over his shoulder. The geth squadron, including the hopper finally depart the room and make their way up the stairwell.

Wilkins breathes a sigh of relief and clips the grenades back onto his utility belt. Chills run down his spine. The close shave with the geth bothered him less than the gesture of that unsettling smile.

_Just what the hell is that damned turian playing at? _

A full minute is all he can give himself before he emerges from his hiding spot and gives chase. Wilkins scrambles frantically up the stairwell in hot pursuit of Saren. He can feel his own adrenaline levels reaching a frenzy, causing everything in his vision to take on a distorted, tunnel-like quality.

"Prepare the dropship for take-off," Saren's authoritative voice resonates from somewhere above Wilkins. "I will not tolerate any further delays."

_They're leaving the planet. _

Realization in mind, Wilkins makes a mad sprint for the entryway where his Mako is parked. Willing his aching legs to go as fast as possible, he takes the stairs two at a time and finally bursts out of the tower. The Mako is exactly where he left it and Tara, sensing the urgency of his plight, already has its engines running.

"No time to waste, we're headed back to the spaceport and getting off this damned planet right now!" Wilkins clambers aboard and steers the Mako out of the tower.

"I've tried securing a comm. channel but Tobias isn't picking up on his end, sir," Tara's grim expression suggests that she's already fearing the worse for the fate of the outpost.

"Damn it!" Wilkins slams his fist against the hull of the vehicle. He takes several deep breaths. "You see that dropship up above the tower there? Get a lock-on its heat signature, vehicle profile – anything! I want you to keep it in sight at all times, understood?"

Tara nods without question. "On it, sir!" She pulls up the Mako's detection array and starts honing in on the geth dropship's signal. "Not to overstep my line here, sir, but why exactly are we going after a geth dropship?"

He fixes a manic glare at Tara which instantly causes her to gulp. "They've got the archives, why else?"

Wilkins guns the throttle and sends the Mako hurtling back towards Zhu's Hope. The moment the vehicle pulls out onto the skyway, Wilkins realizes that the ride back isn't going to be as smooth as he'd hoped. Several Geth Armatures are already on the skyway, keeping a vigilant watch over any intruders.

"Tara, once you're done with the scans, get on the main cannon," Wilkins orders, his dangerously calm voice teetering on the brink of a full-blown outburst.

"But sir, I'm not trained to –"

"Just do it!"

"Y-yes sir!" Tara gulps.

The nearest Armature is approaching fast and Wilkins is neither in the mood nor situation to engage them head-on; not when he's already working against the clock to catch up to Saren. He just hopes that the shields and armor plating on the Mako will last long enough under fire to make it back to the outpost in one piece.

"Any time now, Tara!" he snaps.

"Scans complete. I'm on it, sir!" she scrambles back into the rear compartment and clambers up into the gunner's seat. "Initiating firing sequence…charging mass accelerator fields…the cannon's live!"

"Let them have it!"

The Armature finally takes notice of Wilkins's Mako barreling down the skyway. It turns to face the vehicle and charges up its siege cannon – as evinced by a pulsing blue orb forming at its head.

"Firing!" Tara exclaims.

The 135mm cannon roars and clips the mechanical beast in one of its front legs, causing it to stagger. The siege round flies wide and manages to hit the ground in front of the Mako.

"Shit!" Wilkins makes a hard right, swerving the vehicle to avoid the pot hole and the starggered Armature to the left of him. He regains control of the vehicle and steps on the throttle, hoping to put enough distance between him and the Armature. A few moments later, the hull shakes violently, causing Wilkins to slam his head against the hull.

"Sir, we've been hit!" Tara yells out in alarm.

He curses. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he inspects the vehicle's read-out display. The kinetic barriers have absorbed the brunt of the shot but their shields are now at 20% capacity. Another hit will strip the shield entirely and blow a huge chunk out of the Mako's hull.

"Keep up the suppressive fire and let me concentrate on the driving!" he yells back.

Another Armature and a whole squadron of geth lie in wait in front of him. He activates the coaxial machine gun controls and fires away, raining down lead on the squadron. The high-caliber rounds cuts some of the infantry down but a majority of them are still left standing. Another thunderous boom from the main cannon takes care of the problem, but not the Armature. Small arms fire whittles the Mako's shields down to little more than 2% so Wilkins knows that another hit from the siege cannon would completely destroy the vehicle.

"Incoming!" Tara warns.

Wilkins sees the siege round headed straight for the Mako. Operating on blind reflex and muscle-memory conditioned through years of training, he pushes down on the thruster controls. The element-zero core kicks into effect, instantaneously reducing the weight of the vehicle. He fires up the thrusters next, sending the Mako shooting skywards and barely clearing the projectile. The vehicle comes crashing down as Wilkins wrestles with the analog steering controls to keep the Mako from skidding off the side of the skyway.

"Hold fire until we come alongside the Armature! I want the cannon to fire point-blank into that fucking thing!"

"Affirmative, sir!"

It takes the Armature a while to recharge its main cannon so Wilkins seizes upon the delay to close the gap between him and the mechanical beast. Tara has already angled the cannon to face the Armature, so the moment the Mako rolls up alongside it….

"FIRE!"

The cannon lets out another mighty roar, sending the explosive shell right into the Armature's head. The shell detonates on impact, reducing its entire neck area to nothing more than a collection of twisted circuitry and metal.

"Yes!" Wilkins hears Tara jubilantly cheer.

He looks back at the malfunctioning Armature on the rear view display and derisively snorts. The path ahead is finally clear of geth and it's now a straight shot to the outpost. That is, if the outpost's still standing.

* * *

Tara and Wilkins disembark from the Mako at the outpost's entryway and rush down the stairwell to the colony's main settlement. There aren't any geth in sight which doesn't make for a telling sign. It could either mean that the geth have yet to arrive or the geth could have already moved on after wiping out the colony. For Wilkins's sake, he hopes it's the former since it'll mean that his starship – his ticket out of here – is still in one piece.

They round the corner, hoping to find nothing more than the settlement's charred remains and plenty of dead bodies. Thankfully, it's neither. Both breath out of a small sigh of relief.

"Thank god the colony's still safe," Tara pants.

"Looks like they're gearing up to fend off another attack," Wilkins rushes off towards the spaceport. "What's the situation on the dropship?"

Tara opens up her omni-tool, having already calibrated it from the Mako's detection arrays to lock onto the dropship's signature. "They've already entered the stratosphere, sir. I'll lose track of them if I don't sync it up to the long-range radars on the ship. I'm already having trouble maintaining connection!"

"Move it!" Wilkins rounds a corner and finally emerges into the docking bay. His starship's still there, exactly the way he left it and yet, Tobias is nowhere to be found. "When this is over, Operative Tobias is going to have a _lot_ of explaining to do," he mutters through gritted teeth.

Wilkins is so caught up in his chase after Saren that he doesn't pay a very familiar-looking ship in the adjacent docking bay much mind.

"45 seconds before I completely lose the signal, sir!"

He waits impatiently in front of the airlock doors as it unlocks. Once a large enough gap has been opened, he squeezes his way through and storms into the hull of the ship. Wilkins heads right for the cockpit and begins initiating the take-off sequence. Tara slides into the co-pilot seat seconds later and syncs her omni-tool data to the onboard radar array.

"Done!"

The holographic map display pops up on the cockpit controls and highlights the geth dropship as a lone dot breaking away from Feros's atmosphere. Tara leaves her seat and begins searching for Tobias.

"Come on, come on!" Wilkins curses. No matter how fast he tries initiating the sequence, the powering up of the drive core and the ship's other functions still take time – time that he doesn't have.

Tara pokes her head back into the cockpit. "Sir, Tobias isn't on the ship! I've looked everywhere!"

"Then we leave without him," Wilkins replies, disengaging the docking clamps and mass effect field that secure the ship in place.

"Sir?" For a brief moment, an incredulous look flashes across her face but she's quick enough to rein it in.

"I won't let a simple operation like this be jeopardized by his ineptitude!" he snaps. "After our repeated failures with the kid, I do not intend to disappoint the Broker any further!"

"U-understood, sir." Tara finally relents.

Wilkins pulls out of the docking bay and sets a straight course to intercept the dropship based on the trajectory data that Tara's pulled up on her omni-tool.

The ship soars through the air, ascending above the lonely spires of the Prothean ruins. The skies are quiet and only a lone starship hurtles past them towards the outpost during their ascent. Soon enough, the billowing clouds and blue skies of the planet's surface melt away into the darkness of space. Wilkins pushes the drive core to its absolute limit as he desperately tries to catch up with the dropship. He double checks the map display and sees that they're gaining on Saren.

Soon enough, the rear of the dropship comes into sight. A faint silhouette against the infinite night of space slowly materializes into being to reveal a starship of such immense size and proportion that it could easily dwarf a dreadnought. The fact that the vessel doesn't resemble the ship profiles of any known species in the galaxy only added to the foreboding aura that just oozed off its hull….and the geth's dropship is making its approach on it.

Tara inches forward to the edge of her seat and blinks to actually confirm the sight before her. "What the hell is that thing?"

The holographic map beeps intensely as it struggles to quantify and display the gigantic energy readings emanating off of the new ship. Unfortunately, Wilkins knows full well what the dreadnought is. He brings his own starship to a complete stop and immediately kills the engine. The squid-like dreadnought's 'eye' slowly glows red and energy starts snaking along the veins of its outer hull. The dropship has already disappeared somewhere between its appendages and the colossal dreadnought starts to pull away from Feros.

"Sir, you're not thinking of pursuing that thing, are you?" Tara asks, fear creeping into her voice.

Wilkins remains silent and allows an indeterminate amount of time to pass in order to put some distance between them. Instead of having his resolve faltered by fear, the sight of Sovereign only fuels his determination to get the answers that he needs. Once they're out of the dreadnought's effective firing range, he re-engages the engine and starts tailing after it. Its current flight path indicates that it's headed for the system's mass relay, which appears on the horizon of space as a pulsing blue orb of energy.

"Sir, I don't think the pursuit of those archives is worth the risk."

The dreadnought readies itself for a jump

"Sir?"

Blue streaks of lightning arc off from the relay and onto the hull of the dreadnought.

"Sir?!"

In a dizzying flash of light, the dreadnought disappears from sight as the relay propels it into another quadrant of the galaxy, millions of light-years away. Wilkins pulls up the relay's most recent jump trajectory and programs his drive core to perform the exact same jump. Within moments, his own starship is sent hurtling along a mass-free, space-time corridor.

_This mission just got a whole lot more complicated._

* * *

**A/N: Sorry if you guys were expecting a chapter focused on Nate but after much deliberation, I've decided to rewrite this chapter to focus on the exploits of the antagonist instead. Rather than having a single chapter dedicated to two disparate narratives, I felt it was better to just have it focusing on one. Don't worry though; Nate's gang will make a return appearance in the following chapter. **

**Thanks for tuning in to read this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed seeing things play out from the view of the bad guys. A nice change of perspective never hurt anyone. Well, I'll see you guys and gals next time! **


	31. Hasty Retreat

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. I know I promised weekly updates but unfortunately I just can't stick to it for this chapter. I'm at my final stretch of classes for the spring semester, and that means all my final projects and assignments are due. I'm only getting started on this fic after turning in all of my final projects, so it's a great relief to finally get those creative muscles working again after bashing my head against the wall trying to solve complex engineering algorithms and equations for the better half of the past week. **

**Without spoiling too much, this will be the last chapter in the Feros arc for Nate and crew. So grab some snacks, make yourselves comfortable, get some up-tempo music pulsing in the background (might I suggest the combat themes from the games themselves?) and hold on tight.**

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 30 – Hasty Retreat

"The Citadel? A mass relay? Who would have fuckin' thought?" Aunt Lynn quips absent-mindedly as she takes point. Since Dad and I have got most, if not all of what we needed, we finally decide to make our way out of the archives. "Clear," she signals for us to move up before continuing, "But when you think of it, that's one hell of a brilliant plan."

Ralak brings up the rear while I lean onto Dad for support. He repositions my left arm over his shoulder and hoists me up to get a better grip. The physical and mental ordeal of experiencing those Reaper-filled visions has rendered my entire body useless for the time being, even my legs. I feel like all the energy has just been sapped out of me.

"If the Protheans did indeed center the heart of their empire on the Citadel – which is a likely possibility –, it would deal a crushing blow to their entire civilization if the Reapers' took it out first," Dad elaborates.

"Just like taking down a tresher maw. You go right for its heart," Ralak grunts, adding his own two cents to the discussion. "Now I don't know who or what the hell these Reaper things are, but they sound like really _bad _news."

"Bad doesn't even begin to describe what they're capable of," Dad mutters grimly.

We step into the great hall and the overwhelming silence is such a contrast to the intense firefight that occurred in here just minutes ago. Apart from their bullet-riddled counterparts lying on the floor, there aren't any signs of geth down here. Aunt Lynn catches something of interest among the pile of inactive units and cautiously makes her way towards it.

"Well, look at what we have here." Her expression stretches out in a wide grin as she pries a rocket launcher from one of the trooper's hands. She hits a button on the launcher's side and the weapon collapses itself into its storage state. "Suh-weet. This thing's still working," she beams and clips it onto the magnetic strip on the back of her hardsuit. "Good thing we took this guy down before he managed to get a shot off."

"If you're done looting for the spoils of your victory, might I suggest we get a move on?" Dad reminds them, making no effort to hide the anxiety in his voice.

As for me, I'm content to sit idly by and watch the proceedings. Interfacing with the Prothean archive took a lot out of me and the best course of action is to just concentrate on regaining my strength for when I really need it. After all, we're not out of the woods just yet; we're stil neck-deep in geth territory.

"Alright, alright, Nick here's got a point," Aunt Lynn finally relents. "You sure you've got everything you need before we go?"

"I've downloaded as much of the salvageable data bits as I could onto my omni-tool," Dad nods. "I'll sort through them later once we're back safe and sound onboard the Vanguard."

"You know the drill: I scout ahead and you guys just stick close and stay low," Aunt Lynn aims her assault rifle into the stairwell from which we descended and scopes out the upper levels. "Clear."

The four of us pile into the stairwell and slowly climb upwards. With each step we take, I can hear our footfalls being magnified tenfold, their sounds echoing through the eerie stillness of the ruins. It's a wonder the geth have yet to pinpoint our location by sound alone.

After a few minutes of climbing the stairs in tense silence, we finally make it onto the landing which leads out to the skybridge. All of us breathe a little bit easier once we see the reassuring sight of the Grizzly parked outside.

"Finally! I'm starting to think we'd never get out of that tomb," Ralak snorts.

Aunt Lynn takes a few steps out before backpedalling into the entryway. "Hostiles outside," she reports, her expression grave and serious. "Four geth troopers, and two juggernauts. I'm not liking these odds."

"What about the rocket launcher? That should even the playing field," Dad points out.

She shakes her head. "No go. They're way too close. And I don't want to risk the collateral from the blast. Besides, these ruins are ancient. I don't want to risk it coming down on us because of a stray rocket."

I swallow a lump in my throat, knowing that our stroke of luck was too good to be true. I unholster my pistol and the simple action of it alone is a tremendous effort on my part. The relatively light weight of the gun feels like a block of lead in my hands. "What do we do now?" I hoarsely mutter as I search her eyes for a plan to get us out of this mess.

"The Grizzly's parked close enough that we can make a run for it. If they build them like they used to, the armor and barriers are gonna be more than enough to withstand whatever the geth throw at us," she starts outlining the strategy, slipping back into her days as an Alliance wetwork operative. "Nate's in no condition to fight right now and we're heavily outnumbered." My heart sinks a little as she says that because I realize that I'm once again a dead weight to the group. "Our best bet's to just get the hell out of here. I'll cloak and try finding a nice vantage point to provide suppressing fire. When I give the orders, you guys haul ass for the Grizzly, got it?"

The three of us nod in acknowledgement. Aunt Lynn steps up to the threshold of the door and takes a deep breath, readying her rifle. Then, she activates her cloak systems and disappears from sight.

"Ready to do this, kid?" Ralak motions to me.

"Are you kidding? I was born ready," I try injecting a little bit of resolve into my reply, but my unsteady voice doesn't exactly help sell the conviction of my words.

"Right…" Ralak rolls his eyes. "Come on, I'll take him," he offers. "I know you're his dad and all but you're just gonna slow us down if you insist on carrying him to the vehicle."

As if to make Ralak's point clear, Dad grunts as he struggles to carry both of our combined weights. He hesitates but he eventually relinquishes his grip on me to Ralak. The krogan loops his right arm around my back and effortlessly lifts me off my feet.

"Thanks," Dad nods, wiping off beads of sweat from his face. "I keep forgetting I'm not getting any younger."

This earns a dry chuckle from the krogan. "Let's just get ready to move. Should be any minute now," Ralak peers out of the doorway, gauging the distance between us, the Grizzly and the oncoming platoon of geth.

A flicker on top of the Grizzly just right by the main cannon catches my eye. The disturbance gives way to Aunt Lynn's silhouette perching herself behind the cannon. She raises her rifle and lets the bullets fly. The geth react almost instantly – their ranks disperse and some immediately take cover behind pieces of rubble and the archway's support columns.

"Move!" she yells before ducking against the onslaught of bullets trained at her.

We burst out of the entryway and sprint across the open expanse towards the Grizzly. Fortunately, we make it to the vehicle unscathed and the three of us huddle behind its sturdy armor plating.

"Lynn, let's go!" Dad pops open the entrance hatch on the Grizzly's side. I clumsily clamber in and Ralak gives me an unceremonious nudge. I collapse in a heap inside the passenger compartment.

"You sure took your sweet little time, princess," he grins wryly.

I shoot back an annoyed look before Dad hurriedly climbs into the driver's seat. He looks frantically around at the control panels, trying to figure out how to get the engines running. As he tries to find the engine control, bullets relentlessly ping off the exterior hull. Everyone's already inside, save for Aunt Lynn who must still be somewhere on the roof.

"They can't get through to us in here…right?" No sooner than I say that, some heavy projectile impacts the Grizzly – it's powerful enough to even send the vehicle rocking sideways on its wheels.

"Shit! They're firing siege rounds at us!" Aunt Lynn drops into the vehicle from the rooftop hatch above. "Move aside, Nick, everyone knows you can't drive worth a damn," she orders and then hands the rocket launcher over to Ralak, "I've got three words for you, big guy – blow shit up."

His reptilian eyes gleam with excitement as he swaps his shotgun out for the heavier firepower. Dad scoots aside and Aunt Lynn settles herself into the driver seat. Within moments, she gets the Grizzly up and running. "Might wanna buckle yourselves in, boys."

I immediately do as I'm told as her tone of voice suggests she's not kidding around. As I secure myself in with the harnesses, I catch sight of the vehicle's integrity on the holographic read-out. The Grizzly's shields are wavering dangerously close to critical levels. Before I get the chance to comment on this, Aunt Lynn throttles the accelerator and sends the Grizzly peeling out of the entryway. She runs over a trooper with reckless abandon, and I hear a sickening crunch of metal beneath the vehicle. The tight confines don't give Aunt Lynn much room to maneuver, causing the vehicle to clip one of the juggernauts.

"Holy shit!" I gasp as I feebly cling on to the overhead support bars to steady myself against the inertia of the abrupt twists and turns. I look over to Ralak and as usual, he doesn't even seem to be fazed by Aunt Lynn's devil-may-care driving – as attested to by his safety harness dangling uselessly by his side.

The vehicle's shields are depleted by the time we pull out of the entryway and onto the skybridge. Its armor plating's taken some beating, but we're still within firing range of the geth squadron.

"Ralak, get up top and cover our asses! Another hit from those siege pulses and we're good as dead! " Aunt Lynn barks.

"On it," Ralak hefts the rocket launcher under one arm and climbs up the hatch with the other. The deafening sound of rushing winds fill the hull as Ralak hoists the rocket launcher on his shoulder and takes aim at the entryway behind us. He squeezes the trigger and launches the explosive projectile, following it up by another.

Peering out the rear viewport, I see the rockets' trail of billowing smoke as they streak right for the geth squadron. The warhead misses the two juggernauts and for a moment, my heart drops. However, it finds its mark on the inner walls of the entryway and detonates with a resounding boom. With the building's integrity compromised, the walls start buckling in on themselves before giving way to total structural failure. Rubble and debris rain down on the entryway, effectively entombing the fleeing geth units and permanently cutting off access into the archives.

"Looks like I've still got it," Ralak remarks elatedly, his features beaming with pride as he descends back into the passenger compartment.

"Great shooting there, big guy!" Aunt Lynn whoops. "Now it's just one straight shot back to the outpost and we'll be out of here –" her words trail off. I crane my neck to see that she has her attention fixed on a faint silhouette in the skies.

"You've got to be kidding me," Dad brings up a zoomed-in display from the optics in the Grizzly's long-range detection array and confirms all our worst fear. "Geth dropship incoming!"

"God damn it! When will they ever cut us a break?!" she steps on the gas, putting more strain on the vehicle that's already going as fast as it possibly can. "Nate!"

"Yeah?"

"Get on those cannon controls! Ralak's not gonna fit in there!" she hollers. "Besides, I think with all those hours spent playing video games, you're probably gonna be a better shot than your old man here."

"Hey!"

"No offense, Nick, but I trust the kid more with manning the cannon," she shrugs. "And for a science guy like yourself, I expected you to be better with operating military tech. You couldn't even get the engines started on this thing. Anyways, do me a favor and go check up on the kinetic barriers' capacitors. I just hope the pulse rounds didn't shorten them out."

I unbuckle myself from my harness and stumble towards the ladder leading up to the gunner's seat. Ralak hoists me up after seeing that I have trouble scaling up the first few rungs. I settle myself into the gunner's seat and note just how cramped the space is – a far cry from what's portrayed in the video games. A small slit that constitutes the viewport is set into the hull on my left, while the cannon's display interfaces and controls occupy the remainder of the space.

"The controls shouldn't be too hard to figure out!" she calls out again from beneath me. "Love to help but I've got my hands full on trying to drive this thing!"

I stare at the various assemblies of buttons and knobs in front of me, utterly clueless as to what to do. However, I soon fall back on a pattern that all avid video gamers are ingrained to do: experiment with certain basic configurations until they figure out just enough of the fundamental controls in order to play the game started. I do exactly just that, pushing random buttons that stand out to me until I hit something that powers up the cannon. I pause and retrace myself back to the button I just pushed. Conveniently placed atop the button is the label, 'Cannon Control and Operation'.

"Got it!"

After the push of a few more buttons and knobs, I hear the faint whir of the cannon powering up and an external display of the cannon's current field of vision. I see the dropship swooping right for us and I try centering it within the screen's crosshair. "Come on, come on!"

"Any day now, Nate!" Aunt Lynn calls out, her voice strained with worry.

"Firing!" I pound my fist down on the fire button. I'm greeted with a reverberating roar as the cannon unleashes its salvo towards its intended target. The sound of it is empowering…and pretty cool to say the least. The dropship sees this coming and banks a hard right, narrowly evading the shell.

"Damn it!"

With the dropship momentarily distracted with dodging the cannon, it doesn't see the rocket that Ralak's sent streaking towards it. The projectile scores a hit on the side of the airborne vehicle, but its shields absorb the brunt of the damage. Nevertheless, this sends the ship veering slightly off its mark but it manages to rain down a flurry of artillery as it swoops overhead us. Aunt Lynn tries her best in steering the Grizzly to avoid taking a direct hit but the tradeoff of a bigger, better-armored vehicle over maneuverability is made evidently clear. Several of the dropship's bombardments clip the Grizzly but thankfully, no major damage has been done. I'm not even sure how long our luck is going to hold out.

I struggle frantically to recalibrate the cannon's aim and swing it around to face the dropship that's making another pass at us. However, I underestimate the dropship's velocity and before I'm able to get a bead on the target, it's already on top of us. The shot from the cannon flies wide. It rains down another bombardment on its approach and I can see one of the projectiles headed directly for the gunner's seat.

My blood runs cold at the sight, and I instinctively raise my arms to shield myself against the impending explosion. It never comes.

"Nick, cutting it kinda close there, aren't you?" I hear Aunt Lynn's voice from down below. "That shot could have taken out the cannon and Nate up there too."

"And just in time too," I look down the ladder and see Dad scurrying back into the driver's compartment. "You were right. The pulse rounds shorted out the capacitor. Thank god they had a spare lying around."

Looks like Dad's managed to get the shields up and running again. I breathe out a huge sigh of relief, and I try steadying my quivering hands. That brush with death was _way _too close.

"You alright up there, son?!"

"Y-yeah!"

Aunt Lynn's words snap me out of my comatose state. "Shields are holding steady but we're not out of this yet. Keep up the fire and hold that dropship off!"

Buoyed with newfound resolve and confidence, I try locking onto the target again. This time, I lead my aim and hold off on the trigger until the dropship comes within a closer range. This time, it comes close enough for me to clearly make out the grooves on its hull before I punch down on the fire button.

"Firing!"

The cannon discharges another shell but the dropship anticipates this and pulls upwards in an evasive maneuver. This time, given the shorter distance between the cannon and its intended target, no amount of fancy flying can help the dropship dodge the shot as the shell grazes the bottom hull and takes out a significant chunk from it.

"Score!" I pump my fist into the air.

The dropship sways wildly from the hit and has to pull out of its approach in order to regain control. It abandons its pursuit of us and retreats. From where he's perched on the access hatch, Ralak turns towards the viewport and shoots me an impressed grin. I can't help but feel a little bit – oh hell, _damned _proud of the accomplishment.

"We're almost there!" Aunt Lynn announces.

I look through the viewport and see the familiar spire marking Zhu's Hope a mile further down the skyway. I rotate the cannon a full 360 to search the skies for any signs of the dropship. Nothing. But I don't let it keep me from dropping my guard.

The remaining mile feels like it took forever to traverse but the dropship decides to rear its ugly head again just as we're several hundred yards away from the entryway. Ralak urgently points to the horizon southwest of the vehicle. I rotate the cannon in the general direction and catch sight of the dropship bursting out from amid the perpetual cloud of dust that shrouds the lower levels. However, we no longer seem to be worthy of its attention.

"Wait, why isn't it coming for us?" Aunt Lynn shares the same sentiment as I do.

As it breaks off from us and heads for the top of the outpost's tower, we finally put two and two together.

"Better give the colonists a heads-up!" she advises.

"I'm already ahead of you," Dad responds. "Damn it, I can't make contact with Leonus, or anybody on the Vanguard!"

"Looks like the geth's got some sort of frequency jammers up. Doesn't matter, we're almost there. Fingers crossed we can get to them before the geth do."

It's all just wishful thinking. By the time that the Grizzly comes to a screeching halt inside the outpost's hangar, the place is already swarming with geth troopers. Aunt Lynn angles the vehicle in such a way that the exit hatch faces away from our adversaries but that also leaves us further away from the stairwell leading downwards to the main colony.

"Nate, get down here! Forget about the cannon, it's gonna be more trouble than it's worth in such close quarters," Aunt Lynn calls up to me.

I awkwardly exit the gunner seat and clamber down. "Well, it was fun while it lasted."

"I'm sure it did. It's not every day a high school kid gets the chance to man an IFV's main cannon," she smiles amusedly. "Now, you know the drill: just stay low and keep your head down."

The surge of adrenaline on the ride over here has restored the use of my limbs so I'm at least thankful for no longer having to be a dead weight. I've yet to recover 100 percent, but I think I'm good enough to be of use in a firefight.

"I'll take point and provide cover fire. When they're suppressed, you guys start moving towards the stairwell. There's plenty of cover around, so make good use of them," she orders. She sidles alongside the Grizzly, back pressed against the hull, and peers from around the corner. She leaps out in a combat roll towards a parked Mako and opens fire from her new position.

"Ever stop to think of the possibility of friendly-fire from the colonists?" Ralak points out. "We're gonna be coming down the stairwell and I've a feeling the colonists are going to be using it as a chokepoint."

"We'll worry about it later," Aunt Lynn quips in between bursts of her assault rifle as the three of us get into cover behind the same Mako.

I chance a look around the Mako and see that the stairwell's still a few yards away. A sharp crack of a sniper rifle resounds and a geth unit in the distance goes down. Dad leans back into cover and pulls the bolt of his Striker rifle. I suddenly remember my own sniper rifle slung behind my back and pull it out. I look down the scope and try to line up a shot but the barrage of incoming bullets forces me back behind the Mako.

"Cover me!" Ralak exclaims before taking off towards a large supply crate strewn in front of the Mako.

We oblige his request and lay down some suppressing fire at the units on the other end of the hangar. I seize another short lull in the firefight and pop out, this time honing my crosshairs on a trooper that I've already picked out from the bunch. I squeeze the trigger and send it collapsing into a heap on the ground. That just takes care of one geth out of the dozen that's in here.

"Come on, let's move!" Ralak's voice brings my attention back to him. He's created some sort of makeshift cover by pushing the supply crate closer to the stairwell. "I'll cover you guys," he beckons.

"Good thinking!" Dad exclaims over the din of the firefight. "Nate, you first!"

On queue, everyone but me opens fire simultaneously and I break out into a sprint towards the large crate. I manage to slide myself behind the crate just as soon as the geth return fire. Ralak's swapped back for his shotgun and he blindfires it over cover like an oversized pistol. Upon sensing another brief respite, the two of us make a run for the stairwell. Aunt Lynn and Dad join us soon after. We fly down the stairs, taking two at a time until we emerge onto the ground landing.

"Don't shoot! We're not geth!" I yell as loud as possible as we warily inch out to the main settlement. The sight of the merchant vessel and the module fills me with hope as we're one step closer to finally getting off this damned planet. Fortunately (and strangely) enough, nobody fires at us; the colonists guarding the stairwell instantly turn their attention towards the squadron of geth that's already swarming the small clearing like before.

"Is it just me or are the geth coming down even harder on us compared to their first assault?" I ask while the four of us sprint towards the downed vessel for cover.

"Yeah, but it looks like the colonists aren't doing too bad themselves at holding the geth back," Aunt Lynn replies, furrowing her brows slightly in suspicion.

I soon catch a glimpse of a very familiar-looking fringe huddled inside the merchant vessel, complete with that silly hat he insists on wearing.

"Uncle Leo!" I exclaim, relieved.

He turns to me bewildered, but his expression instantly softens to one of immense relief and joy as he recognizes who it is. "Thank the spirits you're all okay! I was so worried that you all weren't coming back."

"We had a couple of run-ins with the geth down at the archives but it's nothing we couldn't handle," Dad mentions. "Still, good to see you're still in one piece, Leonus!"

"Likewise," the turian bares a toothy grin.

Ranae and Nazreil are here too, providing additional firepower to ward off the geth attack. Aunt Lynn goes up to Ranae, "You guys looked like you weren't having too much trouble holding this position, even with the increased number of geth units. What gives?"

Ranae simply points out to the clearing, where a _very _well-equipped squad consisting of a motley of different species led by a human marine mows down wave after wave of incoming geth. With the lethal precision and efficiency with which his squad operates, the odds are clearly stacked against the geth.

"Holy shit, is that who I think it is?" Aunt Lynn asks in wide-eyed awe.

"Commander Shepard and his squad just arrived a few minutes ago," Ranae nods in reply to Aunt Lynn's query. "Thank the goddesss they showed up when they did. I doubt if we could even hold up against the increased onslaught."

"Damn, and they picked one hell of a soldier to be humanity's first Spectre too," Aunt Lynn swoons. "Just seeing him in action…it doesn't even do all those rumors about him justice!"

The human marine turns to face Uncle Leo and I notice that it's the exact same human marine from back at the dig site on Eden Prime._ Talk about coincidences. _"Leonus, give me an update on your group!"

"They're all here, Commander! They just fought through some geth in the vehicle hangar, so you might want to secure the stairwell as well!"

"Copy that, thanks for the heads-up!" the Commander signals to some of his squadmates. "Kaidan, take Tali and Garrus and don't let anything through that stairwell! The rest of us will stay here to give covering fire so that Leonus's group can get to their ship in the docking bay!" A chorus of acknowledgement resounds from his entire squad.

I note just how similar the composition of the Commander's group is to ours - they've got a krogan, a turian, a quarian and even an asari. The coincidence is just so surreal that I just can't help but smile a little at the absurd odds. We're basically almost mirror images of one another.

"You heard the commander; his squad will handle things from here. We don't need to play heroes anymore, so let's just get back to the Vanguard," Uncle Leo says.

"Agreed," Nazreil chimes in. I just can't help but feel sorry for his predicament. Here he is, forced at having to face the geth again even when he clearly doesn't want to.

"I don't know guys, I'd feel bad for just abandoning these colonists," I admit.

"They're in capable hands thanks to the Commander, and besides, this was never our fight to begin with. We've done more than enough for these people," Ranae assuages my guilt. "And frankly, I'd think we be more trouble to the Commander than we're worth if he has more civilians that his squad needs to look out for."

The truth behind her words hit home and I curse the altruist in me. "Yeah, you're right. Let's get out of here."

With our entire group reunited, we cautiously make our way to the docking bays. After leaving the chaos of the battlefield behind, the transition to the quiet and silence of the bay feels a little disconcerting.

"Wait!" Aunt Lynn puts a hand up, signaling for us to stop in our tracks. "Anybody else hear that?"

I strain my ears to listen for anything out of the ordinary and then I hear it. It sounds like the soft padding of feet on the walls. Nevertheless, there's nothing to be seen all around us which would be responsible for those noises.

"I don't like the sound of this," Ralak mutters as he holds his shotgun at the ready. "Let's just get back into the ship where it's safe."

"Geth!" Nazreil yells out in alarm.

In one swift and coordinated motion, amphibian-like geth units all hop out from the walkway underneath us and cling onto the walls. There must be at least five or six of them at least.

"Keelah, what are those things?!"

There's barely any time to react before one of them gets a bead on Nazreil and nails him with some sort of laser beam. It drains out his entire shields and I immediately drag him down into cover behind the railings of one of the docking platforms. There's not much cover to go around in the docking bay and the rest of the group have somehow ended up huddling behind the railings on the platform closer to the Vanguard. Which leaves Nazreil and I alone on this side.

"What are you waiting for, Nazreil? Open fire!" I beckon to him.

"R-right!"

_Damn, those things move fast! _

I swap out my rifle for my pistol after seeing just how agile these geth 'hopper' units are. They're effortlessly jumping from one wall to another, which makes it really hard to actually land a single hit. I fire rounds after rounds from my pistol but none of them find their mark. Nazreil's not faring any better either. A short lull is all they need to fire off one of those laser beams, effectively pinning us down and making them all the more deadly.

"Guys, we could really use some help over here!" I yell, slowly starting to panic under the constant barrage of lasers. One of them managed to clip me, draining my shields down to zero and I can't risk exposing myself to another hit. Out of desperation, I blind-fire my pistol over the railings, hoping to score a lucky hit.

"You two just stay where you are, we're going to come get you!" comes Dad's increasingly worried voice.

I lose count of all the geth units that are still active. I glimpse several of them falling off the walls like dead flies after being riddled with enough bullets. Just when I thought things can't possibly get any worse, my pistol starts beeping and the trigger locks up, signifying that the gun's overheated. I stare at it in disbelief and the reality of the situation finally sinks in.

_Oh god, I could finally die here._

"Uncle Leo, Dad, anybody?!"

Nazreil's still firing away from where he's huddled behind cover, oblivious to one of those hoppers that have managed to crawl up onto the platform we're on. I catch sight of it and train my pistol on the hopper. On the verge of full-blown panic, I just frantically pull the trigger but the overheated gun doesn't go off; the thought of warning Nazreil doesn't even occur to me. As I see it charging up its laser projectile, my mind just locks up and all I can think of is to just squeeze the trigger until the gun finally fires.

_Fire, goddamn it! FIRE! _

The laser projectile pierces clean through the back of Nazreil's chest. I see his body recoiling violently with the pain and then he falls limply to the ground, his rifle skittering out of his grasp. I see all of this unfolding through the lens of my helpless eyes as he collapses in front of me. I see my own horror-stricken face reflected in his visor and the sight sends me back into the present world.

"Get away from him, you son of a bitch!" I grab Nazreil's assault rifle and unload into the geth hopper in one fluid motion. Red clouds my entire vision and filled with rage, I don't let go of the trigger even until after the weapon overheats. Someone – I don't even know who – has to forcibly pry the weapon out of my hands until I finally relinquish it. As the anger finally ebbs, I turn my gaze away from the carnage and towards Nazreil. He's not breathing.

"Nazreil, hang in there, you hear? Stay with me, for the love of God, just stay with me!" I say as tears start streaking down my face.

* * *

**A/N: And boy oh boy! What an explosive chapter to write! And it ends on an even more explosive cliffhanger too! So stay tuned to find out what happens next! **

**Anyways, I just wanted to apologize for missing an update this week. As I've already stated before, I've been really busy trying to finish up all of my final projects and assignments, so that didn't really give me much time to write. To make it up to you guys and gals, I've decided to write a longer chapter instead of my usual 4000 word count chapters. So, I hope you enjoyed the conclusion to the Feros arc and I hoped that the cliffhanger has you on the edge of your seat. After all, it wouldn't be a great cliffhanger if it didn't, now would it? **

**Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys again next week. I hope to be able to get back to my usual schedule of weekly updates now that I just have finals to worry about…which when I'm done with, will spell the advent of sweet, glorious SUMMER!**


	32. The Quarian That Could

**A/N: Well, I apologize in advance if this chapter's coming in a little late. I'm still in the midst of finals week and I can't quite spare the time I normally would to write. Fortunately though, summer's coming up and that means I'll have a heck of a lot of time to completely pour myself into my writing. So, be **_**very **_**excited. **

**With the explosive, high-octane action and set-pieces that was the last chapter, this one's going to a little bit more scaled-back and character-oriented. **

**Well, hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 31 – The Quarian That Could

"Spirits, hang in there, Nazreil!"

Uncle Leo barrels through the ship, Nazreil cradled in his arms, and heads for the bedrooms. "Somebody get this damn ship off the ground now!" he hollers over his shoulder.

Ranae and I get on board next while Dad scrambles into the cockpit to prep the Vanguard for take-off. Gunfire erupts from the airlock doors while Aunt Lynn and Ralak try to ward off the never-ending tide of geth hoppers.

"Get in!" she pounds down on the button that seals the door as soon as Ralak retreats behind them. "That should keep them out….I hope."

The hoppers aren't that easily deterred. I can hear a few of them landing atop the Vanguard, no doubt trying to claw their way inside. I instantly train my pistol on the ceiling, half-hoping to catch sight of those bastards' glowing heads before I blow them off.

A hand places itself on the gun and gently lowers it. "We're safe in here," Ranae says soothingly. "The ship's lined with ablative armor and kinetic barriers strong enough to withstand sustained fire from a frigate's main cannon. There's no possible way that those…things will be able to get in." Gone is the cold, steely gaze that she usually throws at me. This time, I can see hints of genuine empathy and concern reflected in her eyes.

"But Nazreil…he's gonna be alright, isn't he?" I try to choke back the tears.

Ranae's silent for a moment. "I don't know," comes her honest reply. "But we'll do everything we possibly can to make sure he is."

Just then, Uncle Leo pokes his head out of the bedroom's doorway. "Lynn, give me hand here! He's still breathing," Uncle Leo's words suddenly buoys me with hope but his grave expression doesn't bode too well for Nazreil's well-being. "But he's bleeding out fast! I'm gonna need help sealing the wound!"

"On it!" Aunt Lynn brushes past me and enters the room. The door seals shut behind them.

I make a move for the bedroom but Ranae holds me back. She shakes her head. "Don't. You'll only get in the way. They have experience with combat first aid and besides, Mr. Leo's somewhat familiar with quarian physiology. They'll know what to do."

She's right – I'll be more of a nuisance than of any help in there. Distraught, I just collapse into the couch and bury my head into my hands. I don't even notice that Dad's managed to get the starship airborne. My immediate surroundings phase out from around me as I retreat into my own mind, playing back the horrendous scene over and over again.

_This is all my fault._

Now that we're out of harm's way, my mind finally begins to comprehend and make sense of what has just transpired. The dam of emotions that I don't realize I've been holding at bay finally bursts and overwhelms me.

"It's all my fault; I could have prevented this," I quietly sob.

Ranae sits next to me and puts a comforting arm around my shoulders. "Nobody's to blame here, Nate. I'm sure you did all you could to protect him."

"No, you don't understand! I could have done something, if only I hadn't panicked…"

"You were pinned down and even the most seasoned of combatants would find it hard to keep a level head in such a situation."

"No…but – goddamn it!" I run my hands through my hair. "I knew I was going to regret not telling anyone about this sooner."

Ranae looks on, puzzled. "What do you mean? What were you not telling us?"

_Ah, to hell with it! _

I lift my head up and turn to face Ranae. "Before we ran into you on Eden Prime, we took a short detour to Omega to lay low." This gets Ralak's attention from where he's standing at the airlock doors keeping watch. "Something…happened down there," I continue on in a strained voice as I try to keep my emotions in check. "I almost brought down an entire building." Her eyes widen with intrigue. I take it that her silence means that she's waiting for me to continue on. "I-I think I did it through biotics."

"That can't be possible," she replies skeptically. "I've seen Mother's biometrics of you. Yes, you do have some eezo nodules in your body, but they're not significant enough to warrant any latent biotic abilities."

"You can doubt his words all you want but I was there when it happened – hell, I was buried under the damned thing. He's not making any of this stuff up," Ralak adds.

Her expression becomes even more incredulous. "So…you knew? Goddess, then why didn't you tell anyone about it? Biotic abilities of such magnitudes could be dangerous in untrained hands."

"I…I was scared," I finally confess, and it just exacerbates the guilt already eating away at me. But since I've already mentioned it, I might as well get everything off my chest. "It's bad enough that I discover that I'm some sort of laboratory experiment – some weird Prothean-human hybrid – and then I learn that I have a power to tear entire buildings down?" my voice starts to crack. "I…I just kept it to myself because I thought that the biotics was just a one time thing and that it'll never happen again," I pause to stem my tears long enough to drive the point home. "I can accept the fact that I'm a freak but…" it's a struggle to even force the word out, "But a _monster_?! I don't think I can live with that."

She maintains eye contact and smiles somberly. "Just because you're a biotic doesn't make you an abomination to be feared. You're certainly not the first human to be gifted with the ability."

"I know…but…"

"So you're blaming yourself then – that you could have saved him, if only you knew how to use your biotics. Is this what it's all about?" she remarks astutely.

I sink deeper into my rut of guilt and despair when she finally points it out. I nod silently, too ashamed to even reply.

"Hey," she cups my tear-stained face in her hands and turns it to face her. "I've seen my fair share of monsters over the years that I've been watching you. And you, Nathaniel Sunderland, are no monster," she says with heartfelt conviction. "No monster would care so deeply for their friends' well-being so as to feel this much guilt over their failure to protect them."

"The asari's got a point, kid. You know what the _real_ monsters are like. Hell, you've even gone toe-to-toe with them back on Omega," Ralak chimes in from where he's still standing watch, shotgun at the ready. "And biotics, what's the big deal about them? Everyone's using them these days, for better….or worse."

"I-I just don't want anything like this to happen again, not when I'm around to –"

"Yes."

"W-what?"

"I'll be more than glad to instruct you on your biotics," she grins.

I look on in slack-jawed surprise, still in disbelief over her offer. "You would?"

"Like I said before, an untrained biotic could prove to be dangerous. Besides, it certainly wouldn't hurt to have some extra form of protection against the Broker's men."

A sense of elation and relief sweeps over me, slowly casting away some of the gloom that clouds my troubled conscience. "Thanks, Ranae," I wrap my arms around her in the most sincere hug that I can manage.

"On account that you finally stop beating yourself up over something that you had no control over," she coos into my ears as she returns the gesture.

"I'll try."

Uncle Leo's bedroom door finally slides open to reveal the turian and Aunt Lynn. All of us glance over to them, fearing the worst.

"We've managed to stabilize his condition…for now," Uncle Leo states simply. His grim expression suggests that there's still more to it. "But it went right through one of his lungs and punctured his suit. He's barely hanging in there, and on top of that, he's struggling to fight off a nasty infection."

"The poor kid's gonna need some serious medical attention ASAP. There's only so much we can do for him right now," Aunt Lynn continues.

Dad wastes no time in heading back into the cockpit. "I'm setting a course for the Citadel right now. They've got the best doctors and equipment in the whole galaxy; it's probably our best chance.

"Agreed," Uncle Leo nods.

I dry my eyes and get to my feet. "Uncle Leo? Can I go in and at least keep Nazreil company?"

His eyes dart to me but whatever he's about to say to me never leaves his mouth. Though it may be unspoken, we both know what's already on the others' mind. _Time's running out. _

"S-sure. Keep a close watch on him and try keeping him conscious for as long as possible. The moment he starts slipping away, come get us."

* * *

I step into the room and see Nazreil lying underneath the covers of the bed. He's still breathing as attested to by the vocal modulator that lights up with each and every one of the ragged gasps of air that he takes. The stench of burnt air hangs in the room and my eyes immediately wander onto the exit wound on his suit. It seems to already be patched up by a makeshift seal flash-forged from an omni-tool.

"Hey, Nazreil?"

He's barely able to turn his head towards the door to acknowledge my presence. "Hey…" he weakly rasps.

"Glad to see you're finally conscious again," I smile, trying to lighten the mood even if it's a lost cause.

"Yeah," he lets out a hacking cough which I slightly wince at. "Sorry if I worried you and the others. I really didn't mean to."

"It's fine." A short silence hangs between us. "Guess the tables have turned on us, hasn't it? After our first time on the Citadel, now it's my turn to be all worried for you," I make a half-hearted attempt at a joke. This earns a small chuckle out of him which is replaced by another hacking cough.

Seeing him lying there, teetering on the verge of life or death drives another stake into my heart. I take a chair from the dressing table and set it down beside him. "I'm sorry, Nazreil. If only I'd warned you in time."

"Hey, it's not your fault," he reaches out a feeble arm and grasps one of my hands. "It was bound to be either one of us and frankly, I'm glad that it's me."

"Why?" I ask incredulously, even more angry at myself after witnessing Nazreil's bout of selflessness. If anybody deserves to be in the spot that he's in right now, it's me. I should be the one to have to answer to the consequences of my own failure – not somebody else.

"Well, after hearing what Mrs. Talliscon and your father have to say about your origins, you're clearly destined for something greater in this galaxy." He breathes in a few more ragged breaths, "Keelah, from the sounds of it, it seems like you're our best bet at stopping galactic annihilation at the hands of the Reapers."

I remain silent for a moment as I mull over his words. "You…you don't actually believe all that, do you?" Even after all that I've been through; there are some days in which I barely buy into it myself. "I mean, it must sound so ridiculous especially to someone who's had to take it based solely on Dad and Aurania's crazed ramblings."

"Not really," he mutters weakly in reply. "After seeing that dreadnought on Eden Prime, I started having doubts about what everyone's saying about it belonging to the geth. I've seengeth ships up close; that clearly _wasn't_ a geth dreadnought. And with the geth being spotted beyond the Veil in years, this whole Reaper theory doesn't seem so crazy after all."

I allow myself a small smile to creep onto my features, relieved that the Reapers aren't just some sort of delusions that only I can see. "Just hold on a little longer, we'll get you to the Citadel and have you patched up in no time…" I turn to Nazreil and see that his breathing is getting more and more irregular; he's slowly losing consciousness.

"Nazreil, stay with me!" I shake him gingerly.

He draws a sharp intake of breath, followed by another wheezing cough as he emerges back into the waking world. "Keelah, it hurts…."

_That was way too close. _

"You said you'd seen a geth ship up close before?" I seize upon a snippet that he dropped earlier in our conversation. Conversation's probably the only thing I can do right now to keep his mind occupied so Nazreil doesn't drift back into unconsciousness….which he'll likely never wake up from.

"It's a funny thing you ask," he answers wryly. "Seeing a geth ship for the first time, and now lying here on the verge of death – it's not the first time this has happened."

My interest is suddenly piqued. "What do you mean?"

"It's a long story. I'm not sure if you…." His sentence is punctuated with another wheezing cough, "…really want to hear it."

"Hey, we've got all the time in the world here."

I can only assume that a small smile must have crossed his features underneath that opaque visor. "Where do I even begin? It must be…what, several years ago?"

* * *

I part the covers of our home compartment's entryway and excitedly dart out into the bustling walkway of the residential quarters. I make it a few steps before –

"Nazreil'Vaannar Atwell!"

The voice causes me to halt mid-stride. I heave out a huge sigh before turning around. "Yes, mother?" I muster in as pleasant a voice as possible.

"Are you done with your chores for today?" Mother questions me, arms tucked at her waist in that reprimanding stature that all mothers seem to have.

"Yes, I have, mother. The daily food rations are right beside the food processor and I've already brought the cell capacitors down to the trading floor."

She lifts her hands off her hips, apparently satisfied with my response. "I want you to be back home in time for dinner, you hear? Your father will finally be joining us once he's done with bringing in the supplies from the volus colonies. He's getting something special for us to celebrate the supply run's success, so be punctual!" she orders before disappearing behind the covers into our home compartment.

"Yes, mother!"

I turn on my heels and weave through the maze of crowds and living compartments that make up this floor of the Atwell. It takes me a few minutes to traverse the cramped corridors and descend the flights of stairs down to the cargo hold which makes up the trading space of this repurposed military freighter.

As usual, the trading space is a hub of activity, especially at this time of the ship's day-night cycle. The door slides open to the sight of people rummaging through various storage lockers, looking for daily necessities or accessories to supplement their household. I work my way through the rows of lockers to the far back corner of the cargo hold where an assortment of cannibalized heavy machineries and equipment are stacked precariously on top of one another. I can already see Izaela and Mal who must already be there making fun of me for being late again.

I take a glance over my shoulders to make sure that no one's watching. Satisfied, I get down on all fours and crawl my way through a small crevice into the hollowed-out chamber inside the pile of machinery that forms our little hideout. Two other figures are already in there, trying to get a game console working. I recognize Mal in the dark-red envirosuit and Izaela in the grey one.

"Look who decided to show up!" Mal exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "We've been trying to get this thing working for a while now but the stupid thing won't power on!"

"What took you so long, Nazreil? You know we can't start this up without your help," Izaela says.

"Here, let me have a look at it," I take hold of the console and open up a flap to reveal its electronic innards. I spot the trouble right away – a loose optoelectrometer – and secure it into place. This powers on the holographic display right away and illuminates the confines of our hideout. Technically, any tech that we scavenge and repair are to be communal assets but the idea of sharing something as valuable as the Isenberg-Wyatt's Imagivision gaming console didn't sit too well with Mal (he found the console after all); hence, the hideout.

"Woah, great job, Nazreil!" Izaela beams.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get the game started already," Mal waves it off and produces an optical storage disk from one of the pouches on his suit. "Took me some effort but I finally managed to get Code of Honor: Human Assault!"

I eye the game interestedly and in slight awe. "Where'd you get that from, Mal? I thought they stopped producing the game years ago after the controversy over the Occupation of Shanxi?"

He wags it with pride in his hands. "Not quite; apparently one of the electronics store in that backwater volus colony still had it in stock."

Both of us look at Mal in slight shock. "You went off the ship and onto the colony?!" both of us say at the same time. "You know we're not allowed to do that, Mal!" Izaela warns.

He just shrugs our concerns off. "So what? I just snuck out, made my way to what I think is the nearest electronics store, found the game and handed the shopkeeper the credit chit that we found. Nobody even noticed I was gone by the time I got back."

"Was it really that easy: going outside the ship?" I ask, genuinely impressed by Mal's feat. "Wow, you're really brave, Mal! You're going to bring something really valuable back from your Pilgrimage, no doubt about it!"

His head droops slightly. "N-not really," Mal mutters, his initial bravado starting to crack over my excessive fawning. "The owner threatened to call the authorities on me if I didn't get out of his shop. I just took the game, dropped the credit chit at the counter and I just ran for it."

His confession has us slightly taken aback. But Mal's quick to recover from his slump though. "Anyways, what does it matter? Let's play some Code of Honor! Controversy aside, they say this is the best Code of Honor they've made, since we get to also play as the human classes!"

"Cool!"

Mal inserts the optical storage disk into the console and soon enough, the familiar Code of Honor opening sequences streak across the holographic screen. The sequence is intercut with action shots of turian soldiers fighting off an unseen assailant and juxtaposed with several short glimpses of slight-framed, bipedal-looking creatures which I assume must be the humans.

The three of us look on in wide-eyed wonder at the screen and I quiver in anticipation of being able to finally play a new video game. We sync up the console's controllers and start the co-op campaign mode in a heartbeat.

*break*

We finally clear another grueling level of holding off the humans' counterattack when my stomach rumbles in hunger. Suddenly, I recall mother's wishes that I should be back in time for dinner. "Guys, how long have we been playing?"

Izaela pauses the game and checks the in-game menu to see our progress. "Looks like we've been at it for almost three hours now."

"Three hours?!" I exclaim, distraught. "I was supposed to be back for dinner an hour ago!"

"Well, I guess you better get going then. We'll finish it up tomorrow. I've also got to leave; I don't want to worry my parents either," Izaela gets to his feet, having to stoop somewhat thanks to the low ceilings of our little hideout.

"Fine, the game's no fun all by myself anyways," Mal pouts and he quits the game.

"I've really gotta go, guys! I'll see you tomorrow!" I bid a hurried goodbye as I crawl out of our hideout and onto the trading floor. I sprint towards the stairs that'll take me up to the upper levels of the freighter vessel where the residential deck is situated. As I run through one of the hallways with a viewport that overlooks the vessel's exterior, a sight outside catches my attention.

"What the..?"

Several others join me in looking outside the viewport. I hear the chatter of curious and anxious voices as they watch the scene unfolding outside the Atwell. Silhouetted against the inky-blackness of space, I make out the faint outline of some starship fast approaching. Two of the marines' patrol frigates appear to be in hot pursuit of the unknown vessel. Which is headed right for us.

"Keelah…."

Every quarian knows that an unidentified starship making an unauthorized approach on the Flotilla usually spells bad news. In the span of time that it takes for the crowd to piece the facts together, it's too late.

The unknown vessel hurtles straight for the Atwell, disappearing beneath the freighter right before an earth-shattering crash resounds and rocks the entire freighter. The klaxons of the warning alarms trigger; their sounds confirming the worst of every quarian's fears.

_The ship's hull has been compromised. _

Pandemonium erupts as the crowds start to stampede all around me. I'm only as tall up to the waists of the adults so I'm violently shoved back and forth by the stampeding of feet. I'm barely able to see in front of me through the sea of panicked bodies so I just press my back against the wall and cower against it. At this point, fear starts to take root as a cold sensation that runs down the length of my spine.

"Mother?! Father?!" I call out in vain, my voice drowned out by the frantic announcements over the ship-wide intercom system.

"The cargo hold has been breached, I repeat, the cargo hold has been breached! Stay away from the cargo hold! Please remain calm, return to your living quarters and remain there until further notice! All emergency preparedness personnel, all hands on deck!" the intercom blares.

I cower against the corner for what must seem like forever as the crowds eventually disperse, leaving myself all alone in the corridor. I glance around at the eerily empty hallway and as I struggle to get to my feet, I find that my limbs have gone stiff with fear.

"Keelah! Geth! We've got geth on board! Marines, to your positions! I repeat, marines, to YOUR POSITIONS!"

_Geth?! What are they doing here?! They've not been seen beyond the Veil in hundreds of years!_

The latest announcement from the intercom sends another wave of fear cascading down all over me. Panic slowly starts to overwhelm my mind, throwing everything into disarray. I can't even muster a coherent train of thought. However, urged on by desperation and raw fear, I get my limbs working again. I clamber feebly onto my feet and stumble my way towards the residential quarters – where everything will be safe in mother and father's arms.

Even with that goal in mind, it's a struggle to even hold onto that thought which is currently guiding me right now. I plod onwards with single-minded determination that I don't even bother to check what's behind me. It's a fatal mistake.

From out of the blue, white, scorching pain unlike anything I've ever felt before sears the entire right side of my chest. The intensity of the sensation is so intense that I can barely even muster a scream. I collapse to my knees and writhe violently on the ground, trying to quell the pain.

"Mom, Dad! Where are you!? It hurts so bad!" I bawl, closing my eyes and gritting my teeth against the agony. Breathing heavily, I lie on my back and turn to lay my eyes on what could probably be the last thing I ever see.

A lone figure stands at the far end of the hallway, metallic plating covering every inch of its physiology that closely mirrors ours. But the most unnerving sight is the beam of light at its head that belies a cold and murderous gaze. I suddenly wish with all my heart that all those horror stories that Father told about them weren't true, and that they were just figments from a very bad nightmare; but here I am, staring down the very same monster that drove us from our homeworld. With a smoking pulse rifle in hand, the geth unit slowly advances on me.

"G-get away from me!" I whimper. I try crawling backwards even as I start to slowly lose the sensation in all of my limbs. "Mother! Father! Help!"

The geth is already standing over me, its gaze piercing into mine. Every part of me is already quivering uncontrollably with sheer, unadulterated fear.

_Keelah, I don't want to die. I don't want to die! _

It raises its rifle and trains it on me. Willing every ounce of energy I have left, I shut my eyes and await the inevitable –

A heavy barrage of conventional small arms fire suddenly lights up the entire corridor. I hear sickening sounds of bullets pinging off of and shredding through metal. Something wet and warm splashes all over me. The tell-tale sound of something malfunctioning pierces through the darkness that's slowly starting to envelop me.

"We've got injured over here!" someone exclaims. My eyes flutter open but I can barely make anything out through this weird fog that's clouding my vision. However, the presence of somebody else in here with me is….comforting. "Keelah, and it's a child too! He needs medical attention bad; he's bleeding out!" I can only assume that these must be the marines dispatched to help secure the ship.

"Hey, wait a minute, I know him! It's Syazreil'Vaan's kid!"

"Are you sure, Reegar?"

Reegar? I know that name from somewhere. But it's getting really hard for me to remember or to even put a face to that name.

"Positive! He's always hanging around me in the armory. Let's get him to the infirmary quick! I'll let his parents know he's there!"

"Take Hodda and Breighnitz with you, Reegar. Get that child to the infirmary. We'll secure the level and neutralize the geth threat! You have your orders, move!"

"Yes sir!"

I feel somebody gingerly picking me up and the pain in my chest suddenly flares up again. I groan and whimper but a soothing voice fills my ears.

"Now, just hang on a little longer there, Nazreil! You're going to be okay!"

Intrigued, I open my eyes and see the visor of Kal'Reegar looking down on me as he cradles me protectively in his arms. "Uncle Reegar!" I softly mutter, smiling as my nickname for him leaves my lips. "Is it gone? Is the geth going to come back for me?" I whimper.

"You don't have to worry about those scary geth anymore. Your Uncle Reegar took care of it, and now I'm going to take care of you."

My vision flutters in and out of consciousness but I hold on to those reassuring words. After all, Uncle Reegar can do anything. He's probably one of the finest marines to ever serve the Fleet. I find comfort and rest easy in that knowledge. Uncle Reegar can protect me.

"Keelah se'lai, Nazreil'Vaan nar Atwell. You _will _make it through this! Just hold on a little bit longer!"

_Just hold on a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer right? Yeah, I think I can do that. _

I feel myself resting against a soft, flat surface that's being propelled forward. I look up and note that the scenery has changed somewhat. Instead of the crates and cargo hung on overhead safety nets and the poor lighting of the Atwell's interior; bright and sterile lights shine down upon me, illuminating a very pristine hallway which I'm being carted through right now.

Kal'Reegar is gone, only to be replaced with Nate's worried expression boring down on me. However, the spark of grim determination remains in both their eyes.

"It's all going to be all right now, Nazreil! You're gonna make it!" Nate squeezes my hand tight, lending me some of his strength and resolve.

"You've come this far, so don't you dare give up on us now, Nazreil! Don't you _fucking _dare!"

_He's right. I have come this far now, haven't I?_

"I..I'll try."

* * *

**A/N: Whew, that was a doozy to write. It was definitely fun and challenging to write Nazreil's backstory which played out through his perspective. I just hope that even with all the creative liberties I took, I still managed to stay true to the portrayal of the quarians' cramped and nomadic lifestyle aboard their ships. **

**Part of the reason why I dedicated this chapter to exploring Nazreil's backstory is also because I just realized that after thirty whole chapters, it's finally time to start fleshing out more of these characters that I've created. So, expect for more exposition-oriented pieces in the coming chapters so that you'll be better acquainted with these wonderful guys and gals that have somehow managed to tag along in Nate's crazy intergalactic road-trip! **

**Once again, I sincerely apologize for the late update but now that finals are now done and over with upon this time of writing, I can finally focus 100 percent on writing this fic over the summer! Thanks to all those who favorite and subscribed to this ME: Remnants, it really means a lot to me! If you have any comments or if you just want to share your two cents on this story or my writing, you're more than welcome to leave a review!**

**So, I'll see you guys and gals next week or even within this week if I can crank out the next chapter fast enough! **


	33. Ties That Bind

**A/N: Wow, the beginning of summer holidays proved to be a heck of a lot busier than I expected. Between going out to make up for the lack of social life the past semester, attending graduation parties, and hosting friends on the couch in the apartment, it didn't really leave me with as much time as I thought I could write. **

**Regardless, I'm not going to forget my commitment to this fic, so expect consistent updates in the coming months. **

**Thanks for taking the time to read ME: Remnants, and I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter! =D**

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 32 – Ties That Bind

As Ranae, Dad and I watch Nazreil getting carted off on the medial gurney into the operating theater, a loud commotion causes me to swing my head around to the front desk reception. Uncle Leo is in a heated exchange with one of the asari receptionist while Aunt Lynn – now in civilian attire – stands at his side, attempting to placate the flustered turian.

"What do you mean you can't keep him for treatment?! Spirits, didn't you hear me the first time? Money isn't an issue!"

"Sir, we here at Alune General Hospital have strict policies that we need to abide by. We can stabilize his wounds, but beyond that, hospital protocols dictate that we can't keep him here. Please, you must understand!" the receptionist struggles to maintain a professional demeanor. She glances furtively around at the other patrons in the room starting to be unnerved by the commotion.

"But –" Uncle Leo starts only to be silenced by Aunt Lynn's firm hand on his shoulders. She fixes him with a look that pretty much says _I've got this._

She casually rests her arms on the reception desk and leans in towards the asari receptionist, "Look here, miss. I'm quite positive that you can at least make an exception to the rule here and keep that poor kid in for treatment."

"As I've said before, Alune Hospital doesn't allow the admittance of quarians – "

"That's bullshit and you know it," Aunt Lynn silently seethes with a steely edge to her voice. "I've been around my fair share of hospitals to know my way around them. There is absolutely no rules, no policies, no protocols in _any_ hospital that forbid the treatment of any injured personnel, regardless of what species they belong to." The receptionist does a quick double-take, almost too brief to be noticed but she sees the opportunity and seizes it. "Frankly, I don't need that quarian in there dying all because of somebody's ill-informed xenophobia about their people. We could either do this the easy way or do I need to take this matter higher-up to complain about how a lowly hospital personnel turned away a patient able to pay for his treatment? While I'm at it, what say I throw in a malpractice lawsuit against Alune Hospital and credit it to you, _Miss L'hara_?"

From where I'm standing, even I can't help but feel a little sorry for the poor receptionist after she got chewed out by Aunt Lynn.

The receptionist stares at her, completely dumb-founded. "B-but there's still the matter of getting the blood needed for the transfusion," the asari musters one last attempt to dissuade Aunt Lynn. "We almost never treat quarians so we don't keep a supply of it in the hospital. And with the hospital as busy as it is, I doubt we can spare any staff to go obtain it. "

"Then we'll go get it ourselves!" Uncle Leo steps in.

"_If _you tell us where to find them," Aunt Lynn fixes another unyielding gaze on the receptionist.

She gulps and after a moment's worth of hesitation scrawled on her face, she finally gives in. "The closest supply is at…" she types something on the terminal, "Embrucia's Clinic, one of the free health clinics located on the lower Bachjret Ward."

"The slums, huh? Should have seen that coming," Aunt Lynn scoffs. "Now, I want you to admit him into a ward ASAP. If he's not in one by the time we get back…well, you know what's going to happen," Aunt Lynn smiles casually, lending an even more threatening air to her words.

"I-I'll get on it right away. But on top of our regular fees, we'll also have to charge extra for the decontamination unit and the added equipment that we need to prep for quarian physiology. It's not every day in which a quarian rolls up to our doorstep to be treated for life-threatening wounds."

"Then do it," Uncle Leo replies.

I leave Ranae and Dad's side and walk up to the two. "I can come with you guys to go get the blood transfusion packs," I offer.

Truth is, I need something to keep myself occupied so as not to drive myself crazy wondering about Nazreil's outcome. My mind flashes back to that of Aurania's death and I shudder. I don't know if I'll be able to handle losing Nazreil, not after all that we've been through together. The thought of losing the first real friend I've made in years is just too unbearable to even entertain.

"No, you stay put right here, Nate. The slums aren't exactly the safest place where you'd want to be right now," Uncle Leo says. Just as I'm about to protest, he continues, "We appreciate the offer, but your aunt and I can handle this. I know that you want to help but I think it'd be best if you're here for Nazreil when he gets out of the operating theater. It would mean a lot to him if he sees a familiar face."

"How do you even know if he's going to make it out okay?"

"I just do," he smiles emphatically.

Aunt Lynn tugs him on the shoulder. "We better get going right now; Nazreil doesn't have much time left. Also, we need to cover our tracks – fake registry numbers, docking authorization codes for the Vanguard…you know the drill."

"Right, I don't need another repeat of what happened the last time we were down here," Uncle Leo nods.

He gives me one last parting look before the two of them take their leave and disappear beyond the large, sliding glass doors of the hospital and out into Kithoi Ward's crowds. I don't even notice Dad walking up to me.

"Hey." I turn around to see his worried expression staring back at me. "How're you holding up, son?"

I run my hands over my hair and let out a deep sigh. "I'm…hanging in there. Only barely."

"He's going to be okay," he assures me. For a second there, the sheer conviction in his voice is enough to make me want to believe him. I really want to, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to do it.

"Why's everyone always saying that?" I blurt out, distraught. "How can you all go about pretending as though everything's all going to be okay when we don't know?!"

Dad remains unfazed by my outburst. He just loops one of his arms around my shoulders and guides me back to the waiting area where Ranae is. "Sometimes…hope is all we have left to hold on to." We both take a seat. "Because that's the only thing still keeping me, your Uncle Leo and Aurania going after all these years." A moment of silence hangs in between us as the words sink in. "So keep your heads up, he's going to make it out of this one yet."

"…Okay."

He rises to his feet. "Now, I want you two to just stay here and keep us posted on Nazreil's condition. Meanwhile, I'll be off to get us some temporary accommodations in the adjacent hotel. I'd rather not take the risk of staying in the Vanguard until our tracks are properly covered."

"Sure thing, Mr. Sunderland. I'll be sure to keep my eye out for Nate here," Ranae says.

"Just call me Nicholas. We've been through enough to do without the formalities."

"Understood."

With that, Dad leaves me in the company of Ranae – a prospect which I no longer dread as much after our little exchange on Zorya. For once, I'm finally starting to see a person underneath that mask of professional indifference that she constantly has on. And from what I gather, it seems she's also been losing some sleep over Nazreil's predicament although she'd never admit it.

"I never thought you'd care that much for him," I start.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, Nazreil," I motion towards the doors that lead to the operating theater.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she sounds almost insulted. "I'm just as concerned for him as you are."

"Well, it's just that you'd never seemed to show it much," I shrug. "And I always thought that to you, the two of us were just some immature kids that you were stuck with babysitting."

"Oh," she replies almost sheepishly. "Quite honestly, the both of you clearly acted like one at first, what not with your constant conversations over video games and the like. It got tiring fast but I kept my mouth shut and carried out Mother's wishes as she would have wanted me to."

"So…what changed?"

She looks off into the distance, mulling over her thoughts. "Well, after some time, I realized that it was just bitterness that got the better of me."

"Wait, so you're bitter about the two of us?"

"Well, not the two of you exactly, but the fact that you two are still able to enjoy your Maiden years; acting like fools and enjoying every moment of it."

"Maiden years?" I ask, puzzled. "You lost me there."

"Oh, right. I believe the human equivalent of it would be your teenage years?" she clarifies.

"Oh, I see," I nod in acknowledgement. "Anyways, go on."

"Well, I never had the opportunity to enjoy mine. My Maiden years were a miserable time, and to top it all off, Mother sent me to commando training for my own safety and also to prepare myself to be your personal guardian." She lets out a long sigh. "I loathed every moment of it. And by the time I returned, I've squandered most of my Maiden years away doing something which clearly disinterested me."

"I'm…sorry to hear that, Ranae," I say. "So is that what this is about all then – never having the time to live out your teenage life?"

She drops her head, almost as if she's ashamed of herself. "Yes, I would suppose it is," she admits.

"So, that little act you were putting on back in New Madison when we first met each other in school, was that your way of making up for lost time?" I smirk.

At first, she looks at me puzzled before she recalls what I was referring to. "Oh, you mean our supposed 'date' together?" she chuckles light-heartedly. The sound is so uncharacteristic of her, seeing as how I've never seen her laugh before. Yet, I can't help but think that it's such a beautiful sound. "Well, there was more to it than that actually."

"Really, now? I'm curious to hear all about it," I egg her on, genuinely interested in what she has to say.

"Mother told me to watch over you from a distance at first and to intervene only when absolutely necessary; thus, my presence as an exchange student at your school. The less people that knew about my task, the better I'd be at performing them." She turns to face me, a small smile still etched on her features. "After a while, I thought that befriending you would be the best way to get closer to you without raising any suspicion. That way, I could better look out and protect you."

For some inexplicable reason, my heart drops a little as she says that. "So it was all just an act that you put up then?"

"Well, I must admit that my desire to have some fun, even under an assumed pretense, also informed the decision somewhat."

Suddenly, everything which I've dismissed as pure coincidence at first takes on a whole new light. "But still, you never stopped protecting me, did you? You sent Nazreil to come get us when Uncle Leo and I were pinned down at the apartment. You also sent them to find me back on Omega, didn't you? It had always been you, hadn't it?"

She rests one of her hands on my knees. "That's right. But I only wished I could have done more back on Omega. By the time I arrived, I found out that you were already taken captive by the Blue Suns," she says apologetically.

"You did all that you could. There's no need to apologize for it; hell, I should be the one thanking you for being my guardian angel after all this time." I gingerly put my hands on top of hers. "So…thanks, for everything."

"You're more than welcome, Nate," she warmly replies.

"So, are you still serious about the whole date thing? Because I wouldn't mind taking you out for a good time every once in a while," I joke.

She scoffs light-heartedly and gives me a playful jab on the shoulder. "Well, only if it's your treat."

For the first time ever since we left Feros, I feel like I'm back to my old self again. Even with the guilt eating me out from the inside, talking to Ranae quells it somewhat and makes it seem as though everything will just work out fine. I just hope it does.

* * *

I program the Rapid Transit cab to take us to the clinic in the lower Bachjret Ward. Navigating our way out from the hospital in Kithoi to the inter-ward shuttle that would take Lynn and I to Bachjret proved to be a hassle. Pushing our way through crowded thoroughfares and avenues even when a life was at stake didn't exactly make for the most pleasant of experiences. An automated cab finally arrives after what seems like too long a wait and opens its doors, beckoning us in.

"After you," I gesture to Lynn.

"Aren't you the gentleman," she smirks as she climbs aboard. "You know, the galaxy could use more men like you."

I've gotten pretty used to her tomboyish and somewhat cavalier manner of speech, but I somehow just can't help but blush a little at her words.

"You okay there, Leonus? Your fringe is turning a little blue."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just worried, that's all," I nonchalantly try brushing it off, hoping that she won't notice. "The sooner we get the blood packs, the better."

"I was thinking the exact same thing."

The rapid transit cab takes off and joins the stream of skycar traffic headed to the lower ward. I stare out the window at the buildings that we fly past below and the passers-by that go about on their daily lives, their hearts unburdened of the fact that a quarian's life now hangs precariously in the balance.

I think back to the first time that our paths crossed. Has it been that long ago since our chance encounter amid tangled limbs and strewn-about supply crates on the Citadel's docking bay? In the time since then, I have to admit that Nazreil has gone from an unassuming quarian on his Pilgrimage to a valuable crew and family member aboard the Vanguard.

"Why'd you agree to this, Lynn?" I absently-minded blurt out.

"Agree to what?" she cocks one of her eyebrows at me.

"Coming back here to the Citadel. You know the Broker's men are watching the docks and they're bound to figure us out here sooner or later," I say. "Spirits, you of all people should know just how stupid it is to return here."

"We didn't have much of a choice, Leonus. As Nick already said, if there's one place in the galaxy apart from the Migrant Fleet where they can treat quarians, it's here in the Citadel," she convinces me.

"Still, it's a huge risk to take. We've now got to worry about another attack on Nate on top of Nazreil's condition," I point out.

"Hey, I'm not just going to sit around and watch as the little guy bleeds out. This isn't some deniable ops where everyone's deemed expendable, you know," she reiterates her stand on the matter. "And besides, I've gotten to like the gearhead."

I let out a little smile at her nickname for him. "I'm glad. At first, I was worried nobody else would take a liking to him, what with the whole stigma associated with quarians."

"Okay, I did have my doubts at first," she admits. "But he proved himself to be capable enough and I can think of worse people to watch our backs during a firefight. Plus, don't you think that shyness of his is absolutely adorable? It reminds me of a little puppy sometimes," she says jokingly. "But in all seriousness though, he's getting along pretty well with Nate. I swear to God, those two are almost inseparable when it comes to video games," she sighs, tucking a stray tuft of her brunette hair back behind her ears. "All the better then; instead of one nephew, it's like I now have two of them to look out for."

This piques my interest. "You seem excited to start a family, Lynn. Don't think I've ever come across many people who share the same enthusiasm as you do."

"Are you fuckin' kidding me? Why did you think I left the Alliance in the first place?" she turns to me, incredulous. "Sure, serving with the Alliance does have its perks but active military service is a surefire way to grow old and alone."

"Well….we turians actually see it quite the opposite," I stop her mid-tirade.

"Oh, it's different for your people. You guys are basically built around the doctrine of military service! Hell, your people basically get turned on by the number of stars and stripes that a soldier has," she counters. "Anyways, where was I? So like I was saying, I just woke up one day and realized that adventure and national service no longer had that appeal which lured me into it in the first place. Instead, I was having all these fuckin' thoughts about finding my own Mr. Perfect to spend the rest of my life with. A nice quiet house in the suburbs, hearing the sounds of kids running around, you know, the usual," she says, her eyes basically lighting up with joy. "By that time, I was also starting to get sick of all the black ops stuff anyways and retirement couldn't come soon enough. So I got my honorable discharge – pretty low-key stuff, not like how they portray it in the vids – and was all ready to put myself out there as a young, single woman ready to settle down until well, you know."

"Until Nick reached out to you?"

"Yeah, and I could tell he was in real deep shit when he called me. So there goes that plan of mine; and just when I thought I was done with that friggin' part of my life, something up and goes calling me back in again."

"I know exactly how you feel," I reply, perfectly aware of her predicament.

"You know….sometimes I wonder if life has something else in store for me; or whether I'm even meant to find the right guy," she says, her voice distant and tinged with regret.

"What if he's already sitting right next to you and you just didn't know it?" I remark jokingly.

Lynn looks me up and down as if actually giving serious thought to my statement. "Come to think of it, we do share a lot in common and you'd make one heck of a boyfriend material," she purses her lips.

I recoil a little in shock on the inside, completely caught off guard by her reaction to a seemingly innocent joke to lighten the mood. "You do know I'm only kidding right…" I reply, a little bit flustered.

"Oh...I know, Leonus. I _know_. I was just messing with you," she laughs heartily. "Let's just get those blood packs and be back before I change my mind," she replies with a mischievous edge to her voice.

I swallow a lump in my throat and return my attention onto the road ahead. _What did I just get myself into?_

* * *

They say ryncol is the cause and solution to every one of life's problem; and that the answers can be found at the bottom of the bottle. Well, I'd like to meet the person who coined that phrase and bash his head in out of the sheer absurdity of that statement. The only thing someone will ever find is how one brutal hangover can turn an already crappy day into a waking nightmare.

And yet, I find myself here in this upscale bar on one of the Wards, blowing away whatever credits I have left on drinks too diluted of alcohol and too pretentious for my tastebuds. But I should have expected as much coming here. The sophisticated crowds that frequent this place would rather have their alcohol dressed up in all manners of cocktails than to stomach the raw and bitter taste of straight spirits. Even the strongest thing they served here tasted like watered-down crap.

"More drinks for you, sir?" the salarian bartender comes up to me at the standing bar counter.

I just wave him away. The only real reason I came here was to find a place to be alone while I nurse my thoughts and drinks. I didn't come here for the social experience – every patron in here is giving me a wide berth and I can even feel the wary eyes of the batarian bodyguards boring into my back.

"A gin and tonic for me please," I hear the voice of a human male ordering his drinks beside me. "And get my friend here another round of whatever he's having at the moment." I look up from my drink and see the kid's dad leaning against the counter. What was his name again? Was it Nicholas or something? It didn't matter. I nod my head in acknowledgement and return to staring at my near-empty glass of rockthrop, the strongest of batarian whiskeys. The bartender serves up another full glass and places it right next to me.

"I saw you walking in here and I just wanted to let you know that I've got us some rooms in the Char-Sara Lodges right down the street from the hospital," he informs me.

"Uh-huh," I grunt, half-hoping he'd take off soon so that I can get back to entertaining my own thoughts.

He just stands there, casually sipping his drink and it doesn't look like he's going to budge soon until he gets something off of his chest. "I realized I never did quite get the chance to say thanks for looking out for us back there on Feros," he continues.

"Don't mention it. I hate the geth just as much as you humans do after what they did on Eden Prime."

Another moment of silence as the both of us continue nursing our drinks. With the way he's fidgeting over his glass, and how he's subtly shifting his weight from one foot to the next, I can tell that there's more to it than him just coming here to express his gratitude for me.

"Something on your mind that you'd rather just forget?"

"Huh, don't we all," I scoff and take another long draw from my own glass, emptying it.

"Yeah, but some more so than others," he says with a strained and melancholic voice – not unlike that of a person seeking redemption – and downs his entire drink. I would know, I've been there before and I've been stuck in that limbo ever since.

"Your son….he's a good kid. Got one hell of a quad on him too," I mutter, not taking my eyes off of my drink.

He lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I know. Leonus raised him well, which is more than what I can say of his deadbeat, actual dad," he swirls his empty glass around, staring wistfully into the ice cubes sitting at its bottom. "What about you? Any kids of your own?"

His question hangs in the air and an awkward silence fills in the void between us. I suddenly become conscious of the memory locket dangling around my neck.

"God damnit, just… just forget I ever said anything," he chides himself and rubs his temple as realization of the genophage dawns on him. "I'm sorry I asked; it's clearly none of my business."

"…Yeah, I did actually," I reply. "Even with the genophage. I guess you could say I was one of the lucky ones, depending on how you looked at it."

"If you don't mind my asking, what happened?"

I let out a long sigh, not usually intent on opening up old wounds or digging up the past. If it was any other person, I'd just tell them to mind their own damned business. But the kid's dad, he and I, we're not so different. We've both done things that we need to atone for – the only difference is, it's already too late for me.

"I was young and cocky at the time. When I realized that Nearru was one of the few fertile females in the clan, I saw it as a way to power; she, on the other hand, didn't quite see it that way," I take another sip of my rockthrop. "She didn't want to be used as some bargaining chip to rule over the other clans, she just wanted more than anything else to stay out of the spotlight so that we can raise our child in peace."

"I assume there must have been some butting of heads then?"

"Literally. But the only thing that kept us together was Drogak, our son. Eventually, I went along with her wishes but it wasn't long until I found myself brokering alliances among clans and making enemies behind her back again."

"But she does raise a valid point though. Keeping low so as to not worry about the threat of rival clans towards your family seemed logical enough."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. She must have harped on about the exact same thing you said. Even the little guy, with his infinite wisdom, sided with her," I down my entire drink before continuing, "But I never listened to them. Until it was too late."

"…What happened?"

No matter how many times my mind plays back to that scene of the ruined encampment, the bullet-ridden bodies, and all the blood, it never makes it easier for me to dredge up the memories. But the worse part of it all is the knife in your heart that will never go away. "A rival clan ambushed our camp while most of the men were away. They decided that if they couldn't have Nearru, nobody else could. There wasn't a single survivor."

"I…I'm really sorry to hear about that. I didn't mean to open up old wounds."

I drop my glass and look at him right in the eyes. "You did the right thing for your kid, you know – putting him out of harm's way even if it cost you the chance to ever see him again. But now that you've painted the target on his back…I just hope you won't make the same mistakes I did; own up to it and be ready to face the consequences. He needs his dad, now more than ever. It's still not too late to fix things between you two, you know."

He looks at me, stumped for words. "T-thanks. I really don't know what to say, Ralak."

"Don't waste it on me. Save it for him instead," I reply with a tone of finality, indicating that our conversation here is over. I wave over the salarian bartender to close our tabs. I hand over my credit chit, but the kid's dad hands over his instead.

"I'm buying. I insist," he smiles gratefully.

"Come on, let's get out of here. They'll probably be wondering where we are and I'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do if I show up hauling your drunken ass around," I grunt.

* * *

The six of us huddle around the hospital's main atrium as one of the asari surgeons comes out to meet us. The tension in the air is palpable and I can see from her worn-out expression that the operation must have been a grueling procedure.

"You have some good news for us right, doc?" I ask, searching her eyes for any signs of a success in the operating theater.

"We don't normally operate on quarians so there were some complications involved during the procedure," she replies tiredly. "Most of which concerned the removal of his enviro-suit without exposing him to further contamination but…" I tighten my grip around Ranae's hand clasped in mine as I anxiously hang on to the words that are about to follow.

"We've managed to stabilize his wounds. You can rest easy now, he'll pull through."

_Oh, thank God. _

I let out a huge sigh of relief and feel an immense weight just lifting off of my shoulders. I don't even realize it as tears of joy slowly trickle down my face.

* * *

**A/N: Well, that was a pretty fun chapter to write. I realized that I had a whole lot more going for inter-character relationships than I thought I originally had! It's also a great downtime in between shootouts and action scenes to explore the characters and further develop their relationships to one another (which I must admit, is severely lacking in most of the chapters I've written up to now)**

**Also, I want to dedicate a huge shout-out to subsider34 for being one heck of a faithful fan and reviewer! The guy's been consistently reviewing every single chapter of mine and I almost feel bad for not being able to respond to his reviews on time! **

**Once again, hope you enjoy and I'll see you next time until the next update! **


	34. Belly of the Beast

**A/N: Hey guys, so I'm gonna try out this "Recommended Soundtracks" thing here to play in the background while you read to enhance the experience. I kinda got this inspiration from iNf3ctioNZ in his Masses to Masses series and I decided to try it out here. They're the exact same soundtracks that I listen to in order to get myself into the right frame of my mind to write each chapter and I hope it'll work out for you readers as well. **

**Once again, I hope you'll enjoy!**

* * *

Recommended Soundtracks

Mass Effect 2 Atmospheric OST – What the Future Holds

Mass Effect 1 OST – Sovereign's Theme

* * *

**MASS EFFECT: REMNANTS**

Chapter 33 – Belly of the Beast

_Virmire_. _Of all the places to be setting up HQ. _

Wilkins muses to himself as he slowly inches his way across the random outcropping of rocks towards the imposing, fortress-like structure in the distance. The clear night sky adorned with a resplendent full moon and a curtain of stars, and the sloshing of crystal-clear waters at Wilkins' feet makes Saren's base look almost comical in its stark contrast to the otherwise tropical allure of the planet. However, looks can be deceiving. Wilkins needs to remind himself that the only reason why such an ideal garden world has yet to be colonized is due to Virmire's dangerous proximity to the Terminus Systems.

"_Sir, I don't like the looks of this at all_."

His earpiece crackles to life with Tara's concerned voice. He rolls his eyes at another one of her warnings but responds nonetheless just to indulge her. After all, he did order her to stay on board the ship to serve as his eyes and ears while she circled the base above.

"What is it this time?" He doesn't even bother to mask the annoyance in his voice.

"_I've identified multiple AA gun emplacements all around the base. Oddly enough, they all seem to be deactivated for some reason – they weren't even firing when we came in planetside to drop you off."_

He'll admit that she does have a point. However, it doesn't take a military genius to figure out what it meant.

"_Sir, they're expecting us,_" Tara mutters, her voice quivering. But at the very least, he must commend her for her level of professionalism and loyalty. Throughout their entire journey in tailing Saren's dreadnought through the mass relays, she has not once voiced her desire to abandon what is becoming an increasingly suicidal mission. It's a small fact that he can take comfort in – only the best of the best are handpicked onto his entire team. Any other person would have taken off in desperate bid for self-preservation by now.

And speaking of the journey, it was in of itself the most nerve-wracking moment of his entire career. With the pressure of having to keep up the pretense of pursuing Saren for the non-existent Prothean data cache and the very real possibility of being compromised and blown apart by the dreadnought's main guns, he's amazed that he's managed to hold himself together long enough to get here to Virmire. Only sheer determination and a dogged resolve to corner Saren powered him through the entire ordeal. Between the tension-filled shifts in the cockpit, the mad scramble to re-triangulate the dreadnought's signature when the signal was spotty, and the restless hours spent in the sleeping pods in between shifts – it was all worth it in the end.

No more cryptic metaphors, no more mind games, Saren's going to have a lot to answer to.

The very same geth dropship that ferried Saren to the dreadnought ferried him planetside while the dreadnought disappeared into the black, inky depths of space. Tailing the dropship eventually led them to stumble upon the Spectre's base. After a good dose of stims to supercharge his senses and remedy the lack of sleep, Wilkins set off from where he was dropped at a sandy clearing five clicks away from the rear of the base.

Still equipped in his infiltration hardsuit, Wilkins peers through the scope of his rifle from where he's perched behind another rock outcropping. The base's high walls are illuminated in the night vision scope, alongside the various landing pads and walkways that weave throughout the rock outcroppings on the beach. The place is patrolled by several geth units and even a krogan or two – which is oddly light for the security detail of such a vast area. No matter, it'll only make sneaking in a whole lot easier.

"Well then, let's not keep them waiting," he mutters into his earpiece.

Satisfied with the route that he's traced that'll allow him to reach the walls unnoticed, Wilkins checks over his hardsuit and weapons one last time and dashes towards the walkway.

There's a long exhale of breath in his earpiece before Tara's voice comes through again. "_Scans show that what looks to be like an access hatch eastward along the wall. You can't miss it; it's just right underneath the base's rear doors." _Another prolonged silence fills the void before she speaks again. "_Sir, with all respect, this is absolutely crazy. One Prothean data cache in the hands of Spectre commanding a dreadnought unlike anything we've ever seen before hardly seems worth the risk. They also clearly know that you're coming; you could be walking into a trap for all we know!_"

"Then they're about to learn a lesson for underestimating me."Wilkins is starting to seethe on the inside as he realizes that he's played yet again into Saren's hands. _Just what is that turian planning to do with him? _The thought of it has been gnawing at the back of his head ever since their encounter on Eden Prime.

"_Even so, there's still the matter of retrieving Project Remnant for the Broker. If you get killed, who else will be left to carry on the operation?" _

The question bores through his thoughts like a column of light piercing through the darkness. Throughout his single-mindedness to pursue Saren, Wilkins completely forgot about the kid. For one fleeting second, everything seems to be put back into perspective again. Why is he forsaking a mission that he's dedicated almost 13 years of his life to by going off on a wild goose chase for Saren? The lapse in concentration causes him to barely make it into the covers of the shadow as two geth platforms walk by. While veiled in darkness, Wilkins takes the time to collect himself and reassert control over the situation.

"This is just as much about Project Remnant as it is anything else," he hisses under his breath. "Think of it, the Broker wouldn't have taken me off the main operation to pursue this assignment merely on a whim of his. He understands just what's at stake here with the kid and I'm willing to bet my life on it that the archives are tied into this whole damned thing somehow."

"_Did the Broker specify how it may be of use to us?_"

This query of hers stumps him. "No…but all he mentioned was that the archives will deliver the kid right to our doorsteps. I'll figure out how once we get a good look at the archives" he lies. He's had enough of Tara second-guessing him; he might as well deliver the ultimatum, even if it is just another fabrication to have Tara playing along. "We've had enough failures in apprehending the kid as it is, and we're not exactly inspiring the Broker's confidence in us. If we fail something as simple as this, we might as well kiss goodbye to the Broker's funding and our entire operation."

"_But the mission parameters have clearly changed from what we were initially ordered to do. We were never told a Spectre of all people would be involved!_" she protests.

"It doesn't matter. The objective remains unchanged – we recover those data archives. And if you have any qualms with that, you're more than welcome to leave," he mutters threateningly; his tone suggesting that the matter is no longer up for debate. With that said, he drops the line, feeling better now that he's outlined the plan and rationalized his motives.

After deeming the immediate vicinity clear of hostiles, he charges for another shadowy alcove, bringing him ever closer to the walls. Several minutes later, he finds himself right underneath the walkway that leads to the base's inner compounds. Just as he's about to find the access hatch, Wilkins hears the heavily-reinforced doors above opening. With a hiss of pneumatics, the doors slide open, spilling light and two krogan soldiers out into the darkened walkway.

_How convenient. And they expect me to waltz in through the front door? _

"Why are we being sent out here again?" the first krogan asks.

"Heard they saw one of those STG units lurking around here again," the other replies. "You know the drill: find them, bag 'em and bring them in."

"I still don't see why Saren wants them alive. I'd say we just toss them to the varrens. I hear they've got a taste for salarian flesh, especially those that can still scream and put up a fight."

As soon as the krogans make their way down the ramp, Wilkins gets to work on locating the access hatch. He eventually finds it and runs the hacking subroutine on his omni-tool to unlock it. Dropping through the hatch and making his way along the base's underworks proved to be an uneventful affair and before long, he has already managed to gain access into the base.

"I've cleared the walls, and I'm inside the base's compound. I want total complete radio silence, unless it's an emergency, understood?" he mutters into his earpiece.

"_Understood, sir._ _Over and out._"

Wilkins activates the infiltration VI suite in his armor to make him invisible to all forms of electronic surveillance and walks through one of the main doorways. With his assault rifle raised, he scans the large room which looks an awful lot like a holding cell of some sort. Several of the glass-fronted cells hold salarian captives but there seems to be something off about their behavior. Most of them wander listlessly around the cell, oblivious to Wilkins' presence while only a handful pound against their glass cages, hoping to get their potential savior's attention.

_I don't have time for this._

Ignoring the salarians, he proceeds further into the base and steps through another doorway. He emerges into a very spacious and lofty room, almost like a large corridor, that curves ever so slightly to the right. All sorts of scientific equipment dot the room, suggesting that it must be a research lab of some sort. But the content of the room is what makes for its most eye-catching feature.

"What the hell?"

Suspended within some sort of stasis chambers lining up the entire left wall are the same humanoid creatures he previously saw roaming around the colony during the geth's attack on Eden Prime. Only their physiology seem to suggest that they are human (or perhaps they once were) but the similarities stopped there. The pulsing blue conduits that snake throughout their entire body and their charred skin are unlike any organic features that Wilkins has ever seen before.

Wilkins trains his rifle on them and is mindful to keep a wary distance. He slowly inches along the length of the laboratory without taking his eyes off of the creatures. Fortunately, the laboratory is deserted. Less than ten minutes of actually stepping foot into the base and already, Wilkins can feel a deep unease settling into the pits of his stomach. Everything about this place just feels _wrong_. Yet, something beckons him to continue on deeper into the depths of the base.

"Mr. Wilkins Briggs, I've been told to expect you."

A flanging voice at the far end of the lab causes Wilkins to whirl around to face the new arrival.

"Saren," he mutters through gritted teeth.

The turian Spectre doesn't even seem fazed at staring down the barrel of the rifle and from what Wilkins is able to make out, he doesn't seem to be carrying another weapons with him at all. Saren just opens his arms in mock gesture, as if to almost welcome Wilkins into his abode. "Well, I see you've found me and my base. Now what?"

"Here's the part where I tell you, and your friends, to stop fucking around with me!"

"You humans, always so quick to jump to conclusions," he coolly replies, not even batting an eyelid.

"I'm just here to set the record straight once and for all! I'm done with the mind games; so you either tell me what it is you and the Matriarch want from me right now, or I won't even hesitate to put a bullet through your skull!" he hisses.

"And what seems to be on your mind? You look….troubled," Saren bears a menacing grin.

"You knew we were following you from the start, so why let us? And you sent the Matriarch after me back on Noveria didn't you? But most importantly, you had your chance to finish me back on Eden Prime. Why let me live?!"

"Questions, questions, questions. So many of them, and yet so little answers," the Spectre shakes his head. "To be oblivious and clueless to something so beyond us….frustrating, isn't it?" the turian remarks cryptically.

Wilkins squeezes the trigger, firing a warning shot that ricochets off the wall behind Saren.

"Enough with the enigmatic metaphors!"

Saren shrugs before casually turning around and walking through the doorway which he must have entered from.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?!"

The turian throws an annoyed expression from over his shoulders. "If you want answers, then I suggest you follow me."

Wilkins keeps a firm grip on his gun even as he watches Saren's figure retreating through the doorway. Intimidation tactics wouldn't work here – the Spectre is just as well-trained in the art of psychoanalysis as he is. The only remaining course of action now is to just do as the turian says. Wilkins curses himself at letting the turian control him once more. Regardless, he can at least judge for himself the kind of answers that Saren promises and decide on his next step.

"I suggest keeping your hands where I can see them, turian," Wilkins orders.

"I highly doubt that you intend to shoot me, Mr. Briggs," Saren growls but obliges nonetheless.

"Oh yeah? Try me."

Clearly, he's not happier with this arrangement than Wilkins is. This gesture of submission sets off a warning bell within Wilkins._ If Saren's not the one pulling the strings here, then who the hell is?_

The two make their way through some sort of reception room where an asari sits behind a reception desk. She stands at attention upon seeing Saren passing through and then gulps as she lays her eyes on a fully armored Wilkins training an assault rifle on her employer. No words are exchanged between any of them as Wilkins and Saren pass into an elevator that takes them down to a large, two-story chamber.

"Here we are. I suspect that all of your questions will be answered soon enough," Saren growls as he leads Wilkins into the large room.

The circular chamber consists of glass-fronted panels that ring around the second-story walls. A stairway leading to an elevated platform occupies the center of the room which overlooks a Prothean beacon nestled into a crevice at the room's far end. Despite the barren and utilitarian nature of the room, Wilkins can't help but feel a sinister aura pressing down on him. From the looks of it, it's only the two of them in here; there are no signs of traps or anything. The elevator seems to be the only entryway into the room. Saren cocks his head at the elevated platform.

"You expect me to just take my eyes off of you?" Wilkins scoffs.

Saren growls again but manages to restrain himself, only barely. He rubs his temples and speaks, his voice trembling dangerously. "If I had any intentions of killing you, you will not even be standing here as I speak."

Wilkins takes a cautious step back and mulls over Saren's words. The Spectre does make a valid point; even Wilkins himself finds it odd that the turian would be so cooperative. And given their confrontation back on Eden Prime, Saren would have little difficulty in overpowering him.

"Do you intend to keep this charade up all day or will you have to force my hand?" Saren mutters threateningly.

After weighing his options, curiosity eventually gets the better of Wilkins. He lowers the rifle and warily backs up towards the platform. "Try anything funny…and I'll be the last thing you ever see."

After ascending several steps, Wilkins turns his back on Saren, satisfied that the turian will pose no threat to him. However, he keeps a firm grip on his weapon just in case. He finally makes it all the way up to the overhead platform.

"Now what?" Wilkins glances back to Saren. The turian only smiles maliciously.

A booming yet unnatural roar echoes in the inside of his head and Wilkins grimaces in pain, collapsing onto one knee. Once the ringing in his ears has cleared enough for him to see straight again, Wilkins looks up.

"_So this is the one." _

A red holographic silhouette is suspended in the air before him. It's Saren's dreadnought. At first, Wilkins is puzzled as to why he's facing a scaled rendition of the dreadnought and of why the sight itself is sending goosebumps crawling up every inch of his body.

"Yes, master," Saren nods.

This exchange puzzles Wilkins even more and the pounding in his head makes it difficult for him to even retain a coherent train of thought.

"_We thought the purging of the previous cycle complete. Clearly, we have been mistaken." _

"Who the hell is talking?" Wilkins scans around the room. There's no one in sight but Saren and him. And then, it hits him. The realization makes his blood go cold. "You're not just a ship, are you?" he looks at the red, holographic projection with dread.

"_As to be expected from such rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh. Your queries are irrelevant. This is no matter of conscious desire, but merely of what is to come,_" the thing continues in a baritone voice, devoid of any emotion and human inflection.

The last piece of the puzzle falls into place for Wilkins. "Y-you're a Reaper." The words are barely able to leave his quivering lips. It has to be, there's no other possible explanation for the ship's alien design and unknown origins.

"_A mere label given by mortal minds to make sense of the harbingers of their own demise. What we are is insignificant. This galaxy's fate will remain unchanged, as have all the cycles before it." _

"W-what do you want from me?" Wilkins gulps. Even if it only is a scaled projection of the real thing, Wilkins can't help but to feel dwarfed and insignificant in the Reaper's presence. Its intimidating voice struck fear into the hearts of its subjects, much like how one would regard a malevolent dictator, and an aura of foreboding and menace just seemed to exude off of it.

"_You have crossed paths with a being vanquished long ago from the face of this galaxy. I have felt its fleeting presence in you and Saren here confirms it." _

"I've pulled several files on you and your line of work, Mr. Briggs. Project Remnant, sound familiar?" Saren says, trying to jog his memory.

"Y-yeah. What of it?" Wilkins is just so preoccupied with keeping his fear in check that he doesn't even seem bothered by the fact that Saren has discovered his clandestine operations.

"Seems like the Shadow Broker isn't telling you everything that you need to know about this human kid of yours." Wilkins's silence says everything that Saren needs to hear. "I'm no stranger to genetic experiments, Mr. Briggs – I've seen my fair share of them trying to develop biological weapons of mass destruction, the ultimate super-soldier and the krogans are even working on the genophage's cure right here in my labs," Saren continues. "Turns out, the kid's part Prothean – created from a successful implant of Prothean genetics into the human genome."

Another startling realization floors Wilkins. Right now, his mind is all a convoluted mess. Too shocked to even pick up the pieces, all Wilkins can do is to simply mutter in disbelief, "What?"

"Go ask the Broker yourself if you doubt me," Saren smirks condescendingly, realizing that the tables have now turned on Wilkins.

"_Your fates are sealed; there is no escaping it. Your foolish civilizations, deluding themselves with promises of glory and prosperity, will burn and find eternal rest with countless others that came before you. The extinction of your kind is inevitable. We are the end of everything._"

Normally, Wilkins will dismiss such things are utter and complete nonsense. However, with the sureness of which it talks about total galactic annihilation coupled with its enigmatic yet ominous presence, Wilkins knows that the Reaper meant every single word that it's saying.

"_Find and dispose of this hybrid and we will offer your kind a chance at salvation, as we did Saren's."_

"W-why me? Can't Saren do it instead?"

"I'd normally settle loose ends myself but the Council doesn't seem too keen on my plans. I'm already stretched thin no thanks to someone from your kind trying to play the hero," the turian glowers at me. There's venom in his voice as he refers to Commander Shepard.

"Why are you doing this? What did we do to deserve this?"

"_We exist in a realm far beyond any organics' limited capability to understand. Your destruction simply is. It is beyond your comprehension, as am I. For I am Sovereign. Your pitiful existence has heard all that it needs. There is no longer need to continue this conversation. My time here is done." _

"But I-I can't do that! I need the kid alive!" Wilkins protests, but the show of defiance comes out as a feeble and half-hearted display.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Mr. Briggs. This _isn't_ a choice," Saren remarks.

The projection of Sovereign disappears and another blood-curdling roar booms within Wilkin's head. He clutches the sides of his helmet as he writhes on the ground in pain. If the inhuman noise doesn't stop sometime soon, Wilkins is worried that it might split his head apart. Just when he thinks he can't take any more of it, blackness consumes him.

As fleeting moments of consciousness returns to him, all he remembers is lying face down against the soft sand as the incoming tide splashes against his helmet. Tara's voice yells worriedly into his earpiece.

* * *

**A/N: After Nate's escapades for the past few chapters, you don't think I would have forgotten about Wilkins, did you? Anyways, here we have another plot twist! **

**I'll admit though, writing the Sovereign's part was challenging and yet at the same time, empowering. I had to go through several videos of his speeches, and of Harbinger's as well to get the part down. Didn't want to end up making the bad momma of all Reapers too cheesy and overwritten. I hoped I managed to convey that sense of twisted, foreboding majesty across through Sovereign's dialogue. **

**Once again, thanks for reading and reviewing and I hope to see you at the next update! **


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